Waiting
by Dean'sGyrl0208
Summary: FINALLY UPDATED! When an obscure text is stolen which can throw the world into chaos, the FF is called for help. However, to solve the problem, they need the help of a cryptographer, an old friend. Please R&R!SueReed, & JohnnyOC.
1. Prologue

**Description: **_When an obscure text is discovered which can throw the entire balance of the universe into peril, the FF is called for help. However, they need the aid of a cryptographer, an old friend. First attempt at a FF fanfic. PleaseR&R. Thanks!_

_A/N: Many thanks to __**PirateGyrl**__ for all of her help and suggestions for this story during my LONG writer's block period. _

_Also, forgive me, I know this chapter doesn't make much sense. It's a prologue. You'll get to see our favorite characters in the next chapter, don't worry. Also, just went and saw The Nanny Diaries today. It was such a great movie. Chris Evans' character was such a sweetie. God, to find a guy like that! _

_DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Marvel characters. Stan Lee rocks! _

_**CHAPTER 1: Prologue**_

_**1701 - Rome, Italy**_

_The night was arid and calm. He'd been working night and day, frantic. He knew someone was coming. Someone was coming for him. The candlelight flickered over the walls of his small room. When the flame flickered and died, Giovanni gasped, startled, because he'd been so involved in his work. He re-lit the candle and continued his work. Nothing was more important. It must've been a gust of wind from the open window. _

_The original manuscript was in an obscure language, and it had taken him quite a while to translate. Finally, he was almost finished. _

_Several hours later, sweat dripping from his forehead due to the ambient heat from the fire he'd lit in the hearth, he rolled the parchment scroll, sealing it. Taking the original sheets, he stood and tossed them into the fire. The secret was gone. No one would ever have it. _

_He didn't see the door open slowly and a knife glint in the darkness, the orange light reflected. One strangled cry and he fell, a knife in his back. The murderer collected all papers, parchments, and notebooks, and hurried out of the home, closing the door just as it was before he'd arrived and disappeared into the night. _


	2. Insomnia

**Chapter 2: Insomnia**

AN: Okay, I didn't put this in the first chapter b/c it wasn't relevant. This story takes place after the first movie because, very sadly, I have not had the chance to watch SS. :-( So, just pretend SS never happened. Also, not much happens in this chapter, but it'll start to pick up by the next chapter. Another thing... the title is from a song on the FF soundtrack which I absolutely love called Waiting (Save Your Life) by Omnisoul. Thanks for reading and please review:-)

SPOILER ALERT - if you have not seen American Psycho, Psycho, or the Shining, you might not want to read this chapter as there are several details about these movies below. I don't really go into great detail, but there are some plot points you might want to avoid if you have not yet seen these movies, but just to be on the safe side, fair warning. :-)

Also, please no one take offense to my comment about Sixteen Candles. I love that movie, so I don't think it's "insipid." I'm a big fan of the Brat Pack movies, especially Sixteen Candles and Breakfast Club. Judd Nelson was so hot. :-D

Again, a great big thanks to my friend, **PirateGyrl** for all of her help in writing this story and her invaluable ideas. You rock!

_**Present day...**_

Johnny glared out the window of his bedroom, finally letting the blinds fall back into place when he turned away. The day had been too short and yet, way too long. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy his life, but some days; it started to wear on him. It had been a mostly uneventful day, but Reed had insisted on doing another ream of tests to see if anything had changed in the past six months, much to Ben and Johnny's chagrin. Sue, of course, being the steadfast little scientist, was right on board with Reed and probably would've pretended to be even if she wasn't just to back up her fiancée. Of course, nothing had changed and all the tests had done was irritate him. It had been six months since Victor had gone insane, trying to kill him with a heat-seeking missile and had been turned into a grotesque lawn ornament for his trouble, shipped off to Latveria and none of them had heard anything else about the former billionaire since, except that he was being kept in a storage facility in Latveria.

Johnny didn't like to dwell on it; the guy was completely nuts, there was no explaining it. He shuddered to think what would've happened if Sue had accepted his marriage proposal and had become Mrs. Von Doom. Of course, everything could change with one little flip of the coin, but he had a feeling that Doom would've been as much of a megalomaniac without powers as with them.

Although Reed was the 'world's dumbest smart guy,' he was glad that Susie had ended up with him. He was a hell of a lot nicer than Victor and not psychotic to boot. Although he was a bit more mind numbing than Johnny would've liked, he was still a nice guy, and that was what he wanted for his sister.

Irritated because he couldn't settle, he walked back out to the living room, which was deserted, and grabbed the remote from the end table, flipping the channel to ESPN and settled back. It was a Bucs versus Giants game. That guy Gruden was a moron, he thought. He'd only had a SuperBowl team because of Tony Dungy. They'd be sacking him within the year.

His thoughts drifted as he watched another play resulting in a touchdown for the Giants. Between dating, randomly saving people, pulling pranks on Ben and helping Reed avoid Sue when she came flapping at them with decisions about colors, china patterns and cake styles, he was exhausted. He had too much he wanted to do, see and experience. What fun was life when you let it pass you by? He started to flip channels again, irritated with the football game. He landed on the movie channels and considered his options. Sixteen Candles or Psycho. Good, Psycho would do it. He hadn't seen the movie in years and anything was better than a insipid teen comedy. Although he did like the 80's comedies, Breakfast Club, Weird Science and all of the ones with Molly Ringwald, he just wasn't in the mood.

The music played, graduating to a crescendo as Marion Crane walked up towards the Bates Hotel. Scary movies were great, Johnny thought, but not as much fun without a girl hiding her eyes on your shoulder or practically crawling into your lap. He was not the kind of guy that thought girls were stupid or helpless. He just didn't invest a lot of time or energy into understanding them, so their inexplicable nuances didn't worry him. He respected women for what they were; beautiful, mysterious, and just as interested in him as he was in them.

Which was why, at the moment, he thought sardonically, he was sitting home on a Friday night, watching an old horror movie wearing red boxers and an old high school t-shirt, when he should be out at a club or dinner. What would his fans think if they saw him now, sitting on the couch, the picture of insomnia in all its glory?

He shrugged inwardly. Not everyone found their soul mate when they were a kid, he thought, referring to Reed and Sue. Why drive yourself nuts, when there was plenty of fun to be had and nothing to worry about at the moment? He turned the volume up on the TV, knowing everyone had long since gone to bed and were probably oblivious to anything but a hurricane at the moment. He smirked as Marion talked to Norman Bates, the quintessential nice guy with a big ugly secret; he was completely nuts and had killed his mother, essentially becoming a split personality.

This movie always got to Johnny, and after watching it, he found himself wondering if he knew anyone that was secretly crazy. He wasn't paranoid, just curious about those closest to him. Look at Reed, he thought. If anyone had a complex, it was him. Or Ben. Poor Ben. If he wanted to do some damage, he wouldn't really have a hard time. Good thing he wasn't a psychotic killer. He turned back to the movie, focusing on the screen as Marion began her ill-fated shower. No happy ending for her. She gets sunk into a swamp along with the money she stole only to be fished out at the end by the police. One of many victims of the sweet Norman Bates.

Johnny toasted her with the beer he'd grabbed on his way through the kitchen and took a long swig. He didn't know what it was but he was starting to feel better. He smiled to himself as he remembered the first time he'd seen this movie. He'd snuck into the living room after bedtime and everyone else was already asleep. It had been a midnight showing of Psycho, similarly to tonight. He'd woken up thrashing in his covers for a week straight after that, convinced that the killer was chasing him. His mother never could figure out how he'd seen the movie when they monitored their television habits so carefully.

Sue knew though, he remembered. She'd threatened to tell but he'd begged her not to and she'd finally agreed. He'd spent two weeks cleaning up her room after that, he remembered with a smirk. She'd milked that for all it was worth. Of course, his idea of cleaning was shoving everything under her bed and behind the door, so he hadn't really exerted much effort.

Was he really in the mood for the murder movies, he wondered as he changed the channel again as the credits began to scroll, and landed on American Psycho. It wasn't really a slasher, just a guy's deluded fantasy. He'd read the book in high school, a very long time ago. It wasn't so bad, but the description of all his exercise and music, his tedious skin care regimen and the perfect restaurants did start to wear on his nerves. Watching Patrick Bateman kill Jared Leto with a bad dye job, he yawned and reached for the remote again. Boring, he thought. Once you'd seen it once, it wasn't as great. The first time, it was more shock value as you wouldn't expect Christian Bale to be an insane killer.

It was nearing Halloween, which explained why there were so many horror movies on. Choosing another, he tuned to the channel. The Shining, perfect.

As Jack Nicholson's character hurled a tennis ball against the wall, he grinned. One of his favorite scary movies. It was one of those creepy movies that never went out of style, although certainly looked dated, which only made it all the more fun to watch. Jack Nicholson sure knew how to play a psycho. As Danny roamed through his mother's room muttering "red rum," he smiled. When he leaned his head back on the couch and finally closed his eyes he smiled, thankful that he was finally relaxed enough to sleep.


	3. Just Another Morning

**Chapter 3: Just Another Morning**

**A/N: **Okay guys, I know, 3 chapters in less than one day. :-D I've just been obsessing about the story, so forgive me. Johnny's not in this chapter much, but it's setting everything up for the next chapter where it really gets into the story. Hope y'all like it. If you do, please review as those make me do Snoopy dances. :-D**  
**

Also, as always, a huge, gigantic, enormous, wonderful thank-you to **PirateGyrl** for all her help and being my beta. You are the best! And, thanks to Black-Rose090 for being my second reviewer.

**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing, except my Apple iBook, which, at the moment has a yummy Chris Evans Nanny Diaries wallpaper on it at the moment and my own characters which will make an entrance shortly.

_**The next morning...**_

"Rise and shine kid, you're in my seat," a deep gravelly voice boomed somewhere above him. "Come on," the voice said again and he could feel someone poking at him, making his head roll to one side. It was Ben. Maybe if he pretended to keep sleeping Ben would let him sleep for a few more minutes, so he didn't show any indication that he'd woken him.

When he heard banging receding into nothingness as Ben stomped to another part of the house, he sighed and situated himself, as he'd let his head fall to one side convincingly when Ben had "tapped" him.

He must've crashed at around 3 in the morning. Although, by the looks of the light coming in through the windows, he'd slept until around 10, he didn't feel like he'd gotten any rest and therefore, was cranky. Knowing that Ben would come back any minute, he stretched as he sat up, tugging his shirt down where it had ridden up during the night, yawning loudly as he did so. He stood up, pushing himself up off the couch, and stumbled a little before finally righting himself. Still squinting, he made his way towards his bedroom, intending to get back to sleep as he felt like something scraped off the bottom of a shoe. However, Reed's sudden appearance made that possibility diminish quickly.

"Morning," Reed said as he walked in, sprawling on the couch. "You sleep out here last night?"

"Looks that way," Johnny said.

"Not like you?"

"Well, I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to watch some late-night television. Try to bore myself to sleep. Apparently it worked." He stretched his arms over his head and yawned again. He slouched into the chair perpendicular to the couch and slung his arms over the armrests.

"Want to watch some television?" Reed asked.

Johnny shrugged, "why not."

Sue busied herself in the kitchen, cracking eggs over a frying pan and tossed them into the sink as she went. Ben stomped in, looking chipper as usual.

"Morning," he grumbled, his voice gruff.

"Morning," Sue said, sliding a pan of biscuits into the oven. "You doin' okay?"

He smiled and sat down, the chair grinding as he slid it across the floor. "Yeah, fine."

"What's Reed up to?"

"I think he's in the living room watching the news. You know how he is; constantly checking the news for anything interesting."

"Yeah, I know. He's addicted." She finished the eggs and started to fry bacon in the same skillet.

"You sleep okay?" he asked.

"Sure, fine. You?"

He grumbled in response.

She finished cooking; wiping her hands on the kitchen towel and tossed it on the counter. "I'll go grab Reed," she said. She walked down the hallway leading to the living room where she could hear the faint buzz of the television. Reed was slouched in the middle of the couch; his head leaning slightly back, studying the news program. She'd been quiet coming down the hall so he didn't know that she was standing right behind him. Brushing her hair back behind her shoulder, she leaned down and whispered in his ear, "morning." She smirked as she saw him jump and planted a small kiss on his cheek. When she started to pull back his arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her over the back of the couch, pulling her down under him, causing her to squeal with laughter.

He was grinning at her. "Morning to you too," he said. He leaned down and kissed her, his weight settling on top of her.

When he pulled away, she smirked. "Reed," she said, "breakfast is ready." When he caught her lips again as if to silence her, she rolled her eyes. "I'm going to murder you if I have to eat cold eggs." He kissed her again and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She almost laughed when she felt his stomach grumble as his lips traveled to her neck.

Finally he sighed and pulled away. "I like saying good morning this way," he smirked, an eyebrow raised. He pulled her up so they were sitting next to each other on the couch and she finally noticed Johnny sitting in the chair opposite them, his eyes closed and his mouth half-opened as he'd fallen back asleep. She sucked in a little gasp, surprised to see him there; as she didn't notice him when she'd first entered the room.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" She frowned as she studied her little brother.

"He said he just didn't sleep well. Seems he fell asleep on the couch last night." He stood up and pulled Sue to her feet. "Come on. We'll let him sleep. Let's go get breakfast before your eggs get cold. I'd hate to die over eggs." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek as he led her back down the hall.

_**Later that afternoon...**_

Reed was ensconced in his lab, headphones on as he worked, his fingers roving over the keyboard deftly, his mind a million miles away. Sue and Ben had run to the store for groceries and Johnny was asleep in his bedroom after he'd woken up, drool down the side of his chin, and rushed to his bedroom, slamming the door, embarrassed as Reed and Ben had laughed uproariously. This meant that he had the whole place to himself, although, rather than blaring the stereo or dancing around like Ben would, or like Johnny, doing things he would not even like to contemplate, he was hard at work. When the phone rings reverberated through the airy room, he grabbed for it, missing and knocking it to the floor. He scooped it up distractedly and held the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?" Reed answered the phone in his lab, not really paying attention, but just half-listening as he continued typing.

"Yes," a deep, booming voice said genially, "I'm calling for Reed Richards."

"This is he," he said.

"Dr. Richards," the voice continued, "this is Dr. Theodore Munroe. I'm calling from the NSA office in Washington D.C."

"What can I do for you?" Reed replied, still not really paying attention, preoccupied with his project.

"I'm afraid we need your help. We've just received some troubling intel regarding an old friend of yours."

A/N: Okay, so that's the end of Chapter 3. Who do you think the old friend is? ;-) It might not be who you think... Any reviews are much appreciated. I should be updating Chapter 4 shortly. Thanks for reading! Also, if I might suggest other stories, PirateGyrl has 2 new great stories right now: Always (Red Eye) & A Pirate Calling (POtC), both are terrific.   
Adios!


	4. Mistakes

Chapter 4: Mistakes

A/N: Okay, after a few days of working on it, here's Chapter 4. I appreciate both of my reviewers (you know who you are) and should have Chapter 5 up shortly. I've been very busy with getting ready for my final teaching internship and so that's been a bit of a problem. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Johnny woke up just as the sun was setting, not naturally, but because someone or something was banging repeatedly on his bedroom door. Whoever the intruder was was going to suffer a gruesome and horrible death if he had anything to say about it. He stumbled out of the bed after throwing the sheet off onto the floor and it crumpled, wrinkled. The room was dim, and the walls glowed a strange orange through the blinds as he stomped to the door. Pulling it open, he glared at the person on the other side. "Unless it's the end of the world, I'm going back to bed."

"Johnny," Reed frowned, his brow furrowed as he studied Johnny's appearance. "We have a bit of a problem."

"End of the world, big?" He questioned.

"Possibly," Reed planted a hand on the doorframe and held a piece of paper in his right hand.

Johnny did a double take. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I just got a call from the NSA in D.C.."

"Okay..." he waved his hand, gesturing Reed to continue.

"I think you'd better come out to the living room," he spurted. "It'll be easier if I explain it all at once."

Once Johnny managed to dress himself in jeans and a t-shirt and staggered sleepily out to the living room, Sue, Ben, and Reed were all sitting in several poses of unease.

"What's going on?" Johnny asked as he collapsed onto the same armchair he'd occupied earlier that morning, yawning loudly.

"A few minutes ago," Reed began, "I received a call from a Dr. Munroe in Washington D.C.. The reason he called was that a crypt which is in New Orleans was broken into."

"And this is important why?" Ben cut in.

"Because this crypt belonged to Bryant Verrett, a famous historian who died in the mid 19th century."

"And he's important why?" Ben started.

"Because he was a Vlad Tepes scholar and he was especially interested in history of the Banat region, particularly Latveria."

Johnny sighed, "Reed, you say that like we're supposed to know who that is."

Reed rolled his eyes, "think Dracula. Vlad Tepes was who the legend was based on."

Johnny drew on one of his horror movie nights with an old girlfriend, "also known as Bela Lugosi."

"Right. But the NSA is more concerned about the papers that were entombed with Verrett; two scrolls of parchments, which were essentially gibberish. Probably a code of some sort, but he was never able to figure it out."

"Are we sure about that?" Sue interjected.

"No, but what's odd is that the grave robber stole only one of the scrolls. The other was left untouched."

"Why would someone steal only one of them?" Johnny asked, arching an eyebrow.

"That's what they want us to figure out," Reed said, crossing his arms over his chest. "They're sending the remaining scroll here so we can try to figure out its significance. It should be here by tomorrow morning. Dr. Yale should be here by nine o'clock."

Sue looked worried, "and this Dr. Yale thinks that we can figure out whatever's on the paper? What if it's just gibberish?"

"Then we'll be going on a wild goose chase," Reed said, "but on the NSA's dime. All I know is that he's a cryptographer sent down here to help us with this and to ensure the security of the document."

Johnny crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you any good at breaking codes, ciphers?"

Reed nodded, "I've had some experience in that area. Why?"

"Well, if we have to figure out this code, it's probably important."

"We will have the brain trust of the entire NSA behind us. I'm more concerned about it's tie to Latveria, which, I believe, is why the NSA contacted us in the first place. They're well aware of Victor's history."

"But Vic is a statue," Ben said. "What could he possibly have to do with this?"

Reed shrugged, "I don't know. I'm sure we'll know more when we get the scroll tomorrow. I've invited the NSA agent to stay with us, that way we'll have better security."

Johnny frowned. "Well, this government stooge should be good for somethin' hopefully," he said. "Now, if no one else needs my assistance," he stood and scooped up a black leather jacket, "I'm heading out."

Before anyone could object, he'd swept out into the elevator, giving a half-wave to everyone, who gaped at him.

"Leave it to Johnny," Sue said, rolling her eyes. "Reed, what did they say about Victor? He couldn't possibly be back, right?"

Reed shook his head, "I don't know." He turned, planting a hand on the back of the couch and stared out the window at the red sky.

Johnny whistled as he made his way down the street. He didn't really know where he was headed, but he had to get out of that place. He crossed the street and ducked into McDuff's Bar. Reed's place was so suffocating. It was always so serious. He sauntered up to the bar and grinned at the bartender, who was about early twenties and looked a bit harried, as if she'd worked double shifts and probably couldn't even remember her own name.

"Corona with a lime," he said, pulling up a barstool. She moved away to fill his order and he surveyed the rest of the customers. He smiled involuntarily as he watched the young couple situated in the back corner, who looked to still be in college. The girl practically had stars in her eyes as she watched her date. The boy wore a blue ball cap and was gesturing wildly, causing the girl to laugh hysterically as he performed.

When his drink arrived, he smiled at the bartender again, who blushed and moved away to take care of her remaining customers. He sucked on the lime and took a long swig of the beer, enjoying the music coming from the jukebox. It was old rock, Foreigner, if he wasn't mistaken.

Johnny wasn't really the type to people-watch. Normally, he was too busy being the center of attention, or at least, too busy to notice. However, when a young woman walked through the front door, he was focusing on his beer, his hand wrapped around the neck as he tipped it this way and that, examining the color of the light as it glinted through the amber glass. The young woman sat down on a stool three down from him and waved to the bartender, ordering a beer as well, sans lime.

Johnny finally glanced over, he felt like he'd just swallowed a brick. Or a ton of bricks. The girl glanced over and smiled at him. He could almost picture razor sharp teeth in her smile. That's what she'd reminded him of, a demon. Sure, he'd dated shallow girls before, but this girl, damn it, he couldn't remember her name, had been nuts. She'd only wanted to date him because she could get her picture taken. She was a model for some agency, and all the free publicity she'd gotten from being on his arm for that week had boosted her career, he was sure. He didn't return her smile but held up his beer in a silent toast, praying that would be the end of their encounter. Unfortunately, God liked to torture him. He felt his heart drop to his knees when she stood, her mile-long legs walking towards him until she took the stool next to his and sat down.

"Long time," she whispered in her throaty voice.

He nodded. "How's the modeling?"

"Great," she smiled again, this time without showing her teeth, "I just booked a runway assignment in Milan."

"Good for you." He took another swig of his beer, praying that he'd be able to finish his drink and duck out under false pretenses of having somewhere to be.

"Haven't seen you here in a while," she said.

"Um, yeah. I've been busy." He was thankful when he took the next sip that only a few drops fell into his mouth. Thank God, he was finished. "But listen, I've got somewhere I've got to be in," he looked at his watch, "ten minutes. I'll get killed if I'm late." He took a few bills out of his wallet and slid them under his glass, winking at the bartender when he caught her eye.

The young woman smirked, a dimple in her cheek winking. "Sure you do." She crossed her legs and his Adam's apple bobbed as he watched her skirt slide up her thigh.

_Ten minutes later..._

He had no idea how he'd ended up in the alley behind the bar. The model's legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her up against the brick wall, her teeth digging into his ear as she nipped at him. When he pulled away, panting, he couldn't believe what he'd let himself get caught up in. He hadn't been thinking, obviously. He was just, well, lonely.

"Sorry," he muttered, staring into the face of the model, who looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary. "I've got to go." He darted off before she could utter another word, but as he rounded the corner, a flashbulb caught him full in the face, blinding him. As he shoved the photographer out of the way, he did hear her in the distance shouting, "call me, Johnny," with a laugh. He rushed down the streets of Manhattan. Night had fallen already, and he didn't want to go home yet. Instead, he headed for Central Park. Maybe a little night air would clear his head.

Taking a seat on a park bench, he listened to the night sounds. What had him so off, he wondered. Boredom? He just felt like he couldn't settle. He considered calling Tricia, his latest girlfriend, to see if she wanted to do something, but couldn't make his fingers dial her number. He put his cell phone back in his pocket and stood up. Maybe he would head back to the house. Read a book, watch a movie. Seemed to work last night. He was just in some weird funk that he needed to dig himself out of. And whatever this whole thing with the NSA was seemed to concern him more because it nagged at the back of his mind, an important detail that he seemed to be forgetting. He shook his head as he walked. It was nothing; just his tired brain playing tricks on him. As he reached the Baxter Building, he nodded at the doorman and hit the button for the top floor, thankful to be back.

It was nearly ten o'clock when he reached the building and after unlocking the front door of the apartment, he heard silence. The only light left on was the one in the foyer, which he assumed was Sue's doing. Reed, Ben, and Sue were nowhere to be found, which means that they had probably all gone to bed. He stopped by the kitchen to fix himself a snack and grab another beer. Heading back to his room, he perused the bookshelf and found the book he was looking for. Kurt Vonnegut's _Cat's Cradle_. Not exactly light reading, but it was certainly an interesting book. He fell asleep with the book on his chest, his bedside lamp still on, snoring softly.

As the sun crested over the clouds at twenty thousand feet, Dr. Rebecca Yale yawned and studied the ground below. She'd been on the red eye flight from Washington D.C. after a call from her superior, Dr. Munroe at five o'clock the day before. She'd had to drive into the office from her town home in Williamsburg Village to catch the flight at Dulles. In her bag, a scroll of parchment she'd picked up from her NSA office, which she hadn't even had the chance to examine.

The third plane she'd been on that night descended and she felt the jerk in her stomach at the falling sensation it always caused. She looked around at her fellow passengers, barely suppressing a sneer at the rotund man seated next to her wearing a ten-gallon hat and brown cowboy boots. He'd been drooling on his shoulder and snoring loudly from about fifteen minutes after the plane left the ground after hitting on her, which she modestly deflected by opening up her laptop and putting her ear buds in to block out his questioning. As they jolted when the tires touched the earth, he was jarred awake. She smirked and looked back out the window. The smooth voice of the captain came over the loudspeaker. "On behalf of the entire flight crew, we'd like to thank you for flying with Delta Airlines. It's a cool sixty-two degrees in New York City and the weather is partly cloudy. For those of you traveling to New York City for the first time, we'd like to welcome you. If this is your final destination, welcome home."

Dr. Yale stood, collecting her carry-on bag, and followed the large Texan down the aisle, thankful to be up and moving after such a long night. She'd had two layovers, one in Philadelphia, then another in Chicago, although she couldn't explain why a flight from Washington D.C. took nearly six hours when a direct flight would've only taken an hour and a half.

Since she didn't have any other luggage, Dr. Yale moved straight towards the exit after crossing through the terminal. The line of cabs were waiting patiently, like a long procession of yellow ants. She climbed into the closest one and smiled warily at the cab driver. "Baxter Building, please."

After a harried cab ride to Manhattan, they finally arrived at their destination. "Thanks," she said, as the cabbie helped her with her second bag. She tipped him generously; thankful to be alive after all the swerving he'd done, and turned towards the towering building.

She pushed through the expansive doors and smiled at the spacious lobby as she entered.

"Can I help you?" a kindly old man wearing a maroon uniform asked as he met her at the door.

"Um," she dug out a piece of paper from her jacket pocket and flashed her NSA badge at him. "My name's Dr. Yale. I'm here to meet Reed Richards."

"Ah," the man broke into a smile, "Dr. Richards. Of course. He's on the top floor. Here," he scooped one of her bags out of her hand, "let me help you with that."

"Thanks," she let him help her to the elevator and he handed the bag back to her. She hit the button for the terrace and smiled at the old man as the door slid closed with a whoosh.

She checked her watch as the bell sounded while the car passed each floor. Finally, the doors slid apart, and she stood on the landing, two large double doors leading the way to the Richards residence. She raised her hand and knocked loudly twice and referred to her notes left for her by Dr. Munroe again. When the door opened, she looked up at the man standing on the other side of the door, a half-grin on his face and said, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."


	5. Once Upon a Time

**A/N: **So here's chapter five. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, they make me very happy. :-D As I'm starting my internship for my last semester of college I might not be as quick from now on (or at least after the next 2 weeks), so sorry in advance. Hopefully that won't be the case. Anyways, hope you enjoy the latest chapter. I'm having a lot of fun writing it. Special thanks to **PirateGyrl** for all her help and for putting up with me asking for constant advice and being my beta.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Chapter 5: Once Upon a Time...  
**

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she said, as she stared, open-mouthed, at Johnny, who smirked at her.

"Ummm," Johnny began, "can I help you?"

"Johnny Storm," she said, her voice barely above a growl.

"Yeah," he flashed a grin and leaned against the doorframe. "There something I can help you with?"

"You don't remember me?" she cocked her head to one side, her short brown hair glinting in the morning light.

"Ummm," he gave a short laugh, "Can you give me some help with this, gorgeous? I'm drownin' here."

"_Doctor_ Rebecca Yale," she stuck out a hand, her eyes narrowed. "I'm your NSA liason."

_Rebecca Yale? Oh, shit. _He gulped and held out his own hand, "Wow, Becca, you look...great."

She shook his hand, his callused palm grating against her smooth one. "Thanks." She gestured to the door, "you going to invite me in?"

Still shocked, he pushed the door open, "yeah, of course. Come in." As she walked past him, he flashed another smile. "So you're the great Dr. Yale? Reed said you were a guy."

She rolled her eyes, "well, obviously not." He led her into a large area that seemed to be composed solely of experimental equipment.

"Reed's in here," he said, gesturing to the left, which branched off onto a hallway with a large private office. Reed sat, his nose buried in a book. When Johnny knocked on the doorframe, he jumped visibly and spun in the desk chair.

"Reed," Johnny grinned, "this is Dr. Becca Yale with the NSA."

"Rebecca," she corrected.

"Rebecca," Johnny said, trying to get his mouth around the elongation of her name. "Hmm. I like Becca better." He didn't see her roll her eyes and step into Reed's office as he jumped to his feet.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Richards," she extended a hand and took Reed's in her own.

"Please," he smiled kindly, "call me Reed."

"Reed," she let him lead her to a comfortable armchair and put both bags on the ground.

"Johnny," Reed said, "you're so rude. You let Dr. Yale haul both of these bags around?"

"Well, umm." Johnny looked uncomfortable. "Sorry." He ducked out of the room after saying, "I'm gonna go grab Sue and Ben. I don't even know if they're up yet." With that, he disappeared down the hall.

Reed smiled again at Becca. "So, how do you know our Johnny?" he asked conversationally.

"What?" She frowned, "how did you know?"

"Just a feeling," his smile widened.

"College," Becca said, "we went to school together."

Reed nodded. "I hope there's no problem working with him?"

Becca smiled warmly, "no, of course not. College was quite a long time ago. Whatever mistakes which were made are long forgotten."

"Water under the bridge?" he offered.

"Exactly." She hated platitudes, but continued to smile. Why let on that the fact that just seeing him had made her want to grab the closest pointed object and stab him in the heart? Whatever issues she had were going to be worked through. It wasn't going to interfere with her job. Everything was much more important than her feelings.

"So," Reed continued, "you brought the scroll that was left in the crypt in New Orleans?"

"Yes," she knelt and pulled the paper that he was referring to from her briefcase, as well as a letter from Dr. Munroe. "Here's what Dr. Munroe sent you, also. I haven't had a chance to study this parchment, but I don't believe that was why he was so concerned."

Reed opened the sealed letter from Munroe and frowned as he read.

* * *

Down the hall, Johnny was pacing in the living room. _Rebecca Yale? How the hell had this happened?_ He frowned as he heard footsteps approaching. It was Sue. 

"Johnny, who was at the door?" she asked.

"Dr. Yale," he said softly.

"Great. Where is he?"

"Talking to Reed in his office. Go on in. I'll be there in a minute."

Sue started to turn and then looked over her shoulder at her brother. "Is something wrong?"

_No, everything's freaking great except I'm going to have to work with my ex-girlfriend who hates me. Everything's wonderful. _

"I'm fine," he smiled at her and waved her off. "I'll be there in a minute."

* * *

_**Four years ago…**_

_She shut the door to her dorm room, turning the electronic key in the lock. With a definitive beep she heard the lock engage and stuck the key in her jeans pocket. She had to get out of her room. It was too smothering. She'd been in there, fuming all day and ignoring the telephone ringing. Finally, she'd pulled it off the hook and hopped in the shower. She needed some air. The night was warm and humid, with a light drizzle falling. Even that didn't bother her. She could see the stars through the murky clouds and the pavement glimmered as she took the path towards the library. It was a brisk walk, and when she pushed through the front door past a few girls grouped together on cell phones, the cold air hit her in the face. _

_Although she didn't have any work to do, she thought she might search for a good book to read, anything other than a textbook. She walked over to the elevator, brushing her hair behind her ear. When she climbed into the car she hit the button for the sixth floor. She checked her cell phone after pulling it out of her pocket. Nearly one o'clock in the morning. Since it was close to finals, the library stayed open all night. She could stay as long as she wanted. The double doors slid open and she stepped onto the empty floor. She made her way towards the fiction section. Maybe a good murder mystery would do the trick. Her hiking boots squeaked from the moisture the drizzle created as she walked across the linoleum floor. The moon glinted through the skylights as she walked towards the back corner, where her favorite section was. The lights seemed to have been turned off in one area so it was rather dim in the stacks. She began to browse, searching for a good new book. She lost herself in browsing titles and let out a squeak of surprise when someone tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned she founder herself face to face with the person she'd been avoiding all day._

"_Becca," he said, smiling guiltily. "How are you?"_

"_Leave me alone Drew," she said slowly. She turned and continued to browse while he just stood there, watching her. _

"_Becca," he said again. "I'm sorry." _

"_Oh save it Drew," she spat. "I don't care what your reasons are and I don't care about you. If you don't leave me alone I'm going to call campus security for harassment." She shoved past him but he grabbed her arm. _

"_What the hell is wrong with you? I'm trying to apologize." _

"_If you don't let go of me…" she started, her voice low. He shoved her against the stacks and planted both of his hands on either side of her shoulders to cage her in. "Could you at least listen for a damn second?" he asked. She glared at him without answering. Her head was ringing from making contact with one of the metal shelves. Pissed off, she said, "fine." She punched him in the nose and kneed him in the groin. When he collapsed in front of her, falling to the side, she shook her head. "Don't ever come near me again."_

"_Bitch," he spat, as he writhed on the floor in pain. _

_She smirked and retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. "Now," she said, "I'm going to go report this to security. You can go pick up your wallet from them."_

_She turned and started to walk away when she bumped into someone. "Sorry," she mumbled, a little flustered. A hand grabbed her upper arm, steadying her. She looked up into the face of a young man, about her age, frowning down at her._

"_Everything all right?" he asked, looking over her shoulder at Drew still curled up on the carpet. _

"_Yeah, thanks. Why?"_

"_Um…" he looked down at Drew again, confused. "What happened?"_

"_Nothing," she smiled brightly. "Just finishing a discussion. It got a little…heated." _

"_Looks like you came out on top. Good thing. I heard you fighting across the aisle and was going to come kick that guy's ass," he glanced down and saw her holding Drew's wallet._

"_Oh, this?" she waved the wallet. "I just need to go hand this off to the security downstairs. Maybe that'll teach him." _

_She started to walk away, and out of the corner of her eye she sensed him following her. "Sorry," she said over her shoulder. "I appreciate the masculine show of chivalry, but I can take care of myself."_

"_I gathered. What did he do?" he asked, indicating Drew._

"_Oh, him? Just cheated on me and then lied about it." She tossed the wallet in the air and caught it with one hand. "Moron. And then he tries to come make up. Does he honestly think I'd take him back after that?" _

_She turned and looked at the boy full in the face. He looked like he was ready to spit nails. "Oh, sorry," she said. "I'm sure you don't want to hear about my relationship problems."_

"_No," he frowned, "I was just trying to decide whether I should go kick the guy's ass myself." _

"_I think he's had enough for one night, but thanks." She patted him on the shoulder. _

"_Okay," he sighed. "Sorry," he stuck out a hand, "I didn't introduce myself. Johnny." _

_She took his hand with her own. It was warm and had calluses on the palm. "Becca. Nice to meet you."_

* * *

AN - well there you have it guys, another chapter. Ch. 6 should be up in a few days if I can get it finished. Again, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers. Hope you guys are enjoying it. Also, Dawnie-7 who normally doesn't read FF stories, I'm appreciative that you suffered through this one. I'll try not to make it too boring. Love you guys! 

Mystery Gyrl


	6. Distance

**Chapter 6**

"What do you mean 'he's been sighted'?" Johnny asked while pacing the length of Reed's office as Becca sat calmly, still in the comfortable wing chair she'd originally been seated in when invited into the office.

"Just what the letter says," Reed said, "that Doom's been seen in Latveria."

"I thought Vic was a little…stiff," Ben said.

"Apparently not," Becca said. "According to Dr. Munroe, he's been seen near his old home, alive and well."

"How the hell did this happen?" Sue asked, grasping at Reed's hand.

"That's what we need to find out," Reed said. He stood and, almost as if mimicking Johnny, began to pace.

Becca did everything she could to not make direct eye contact with Johnny as being in his vicinity was distracting enough. She looked down at her lap at the parchment she still held.

"The key," she said, holding it up so everyone could see, "is in this. If we can figure out why and how Doom is back, then we can stop him. There's got to be some significance to leaving only one of the scrolls behind."

Johnny snorted, "Doesn't that just means it's of no use?"

Becca didn't even glance at him, "not necessarily. Each has something to do with the other."

Reed nodded, "Dr. Yale's right. There's got to be something important about this scroll. It even begs the question, why was it not taken as well?"

"So how long will it take for the good doc be able to figure out what it means?" Ben interjected.

"That depends," said Reed, "on how difficult Dr. Yale finds it. I'll be more than happy to offer any help I can as I've had experience in cryptography."

"Well," Johnny crossed his arms over his chest and finally stopped pacing. "Well, then it looks like the brain trust needs to get to work, doesn't it?"

Becca kept herself from rolling her eyes but instead smiled at Reed, "I agree. We need to get to work."

Reed stood, "of course. Just let me show you to where you'll be staying for the time being and then we'll get started." He reached down and picked up one of her suitcases and Johnny snatched the other before she could close her hand over the handle.

"I've got it," he said, with a small smile.

She ignored him and followed Reed through the house. "Nice place," she commented.

Reed grinned at her, "thanks. It's more like a lab, but thanks." He held a hand out and let her lead the way down the hall. "And this," he said, stopping at the third door on the right, "is your room."

"Thanks," she said, opening the door he'd indicated. He followed her in with her bags and left them next to the dresser.

"I'll leave you to get situated. If you'd like, we can start working on this in my lab in a few minutes."

She nodded, "sure, thanks." He headed back down the hall and she turned her back, moving to the window to open the curtains to see the sun beaming down on the glass windows of the buildings nearby, sparkling like diamonds.

"Nice place, huh?" she heard a voice behind her and made a disgusted face into her reflection in the window and turned to face the intruder. He was still standing there.

"Sure is."

"So," Johnny grinned and moved into the room. "What a coincidence, right? I mean, you being here."

"Stranger things," she said, more to herself than to him through gritted teeth.

"Look, Becca," he moved towards her, but she backed away.

"Johnny, as far as I'm concerned, I'm just here to do my job. I don't want to catch up on old times and I don't want to talk about something that happened years ago. I don't want anything to do with you." Without waiting for a response, she walked past him and headed down the hall. Better to focus on this problem and get out of here as quick as she could before she murdered him. Because, even if she couldn't admit it to herself or him, she was still hurting from something that she should have been over a long time ago.

* * *

Hours later, she and Reed were hunched over his table, working on several symbols on the scroll. She had her laptop open and the symbols on the screen along with the mathematical algorithms were giving her a headache.

She sighed and looked over at Reed, whose face was gaunt from concentration and probably mirrored her own.

"Coffee?" she asked, her voice hoarse from lack of use. They'd both been working silently, only the sound of her computer and Reed's soft breathing had permeated the air for the past twenty minutes.

"Hmm," Reed rubbed a hand through his hair and smiled kindly at her, "sounds good." He stood and headed out the door, leaving Becca alone in the room. She'd not seen much of Sue and Ben and thankfully Johnny had made himself scarce, but she didn't foresee that lasting for long.

* * *

Johnny knew she was in there working with Reed. But he couldn't make himself set foot in the lab. It wasn't that he was scared. No, it had nothing to do with fear. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he'd taken to pacing in the hallway that he now shared with Becca, he sighed. There was nothing he could do about it right now. He shook his head at himself. It was like he was a kid waiting on the grown-ups to get done working. And it was frustrating as hell.

* * *

Later that evening, after a quiet dinner with just Sue and Ben for company as Reed and Becca had taken theirs to eat while they worked, Johnny headed to his room to watch a little tv. She avoided his gaze whenever they'd been in the same room, she didn't even let herself get too close to him. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. And he was so good at taking what came easiest. But this was different.

When Becca staggered out of the lab and towards her bedroom several hours later for some much needed sleep, she did notice the beam of light coming from underneath a nearby bedroom door. What she didn't realize was that Johnny had been listening for her approach and had been waiting for just this moment. However, before he'd managed to make it out of the door, which he'd swung open, she'd muttered, "good night" and closed her door behind her. She collapsed on the bed and, without even taking off her clothes, closed her eyes and fell asleep, not sparing him another thought.


	7. 3 Days and 4 Gallons of Coffee Later

**Chapter 7**

**Three days and four gallons of coffee later…**

When did she turn into such a cynical woman, she wondered. She thought she was a pretty good person. She didn't hold grudges, typically. However, in this particular case, her brain had ceased to function. This hadn't been just a stupid mistake. He just hadn't cared. And the fact that nearly four years later she still seethed at the thought of the tableau she'd been presented with irked her even more.

Becca had hated him. Thankfully that feeling had faded somewhat and she was left with general loathing and dislike.

She didn't even care that he was gorgeous, maybe even more so than the last time she'd seen him. And she hated her fickle heart when it beat faster every time she saw him.

She sighed and looked down at her laptop, frustrated with herself. The lights were low in the room she'd been provided, and she rolled her neck to relieve some tension from sitting in one position for too long. She was almost there. Almost done breaking the code. It still bothered her. Why would they only steal one? One of the scrolls? It dated back several hundred years and she'd been very careful in handling the document, but she still couldn't figure out why only one had been taken if there had been twin scrolls.

Leaning back on the comfortable pillows, she studied the computer screen and smirked. Finally, a breakthrough.

She stood and lobbed the computer onto the bed so it thumped onto the cushion. However, when she slung open the door, to rush down the hallway, she was shoved back into the bedroom and the door was shut abruptly with a bang. Johnny stood staring at her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What?" she asked, innocently.

"Don't give me that, Becca," he said. "You've been hiding in here for days, running every time you see me coming. In short, you've been avoiding me."

"Look Johnny," she smiled sweetly, as if addressing a five-year-old, "I'm not discussing this. It's over and done with."

"Becca," he sighed, "as always, you think you know what everyone is thinking before they even think it."

"Please Johnny. Enlighten me. What can I do for you?"

"You drive me nuts," he turned and acted as if he was going to leave, but then turned again, reconsidering. "Look," he frowned as his eyes bored into hers, "you and I haven't seen each other in years. Maybe you should just give me a chance to prove that I'm not the same person I was then rather than just jumping to conclusions."

"I'm so sorry," Becca said, her voice dripping sarcasm, "if my attitude offends you. Fortunately, my job isn't to assuage your guilt. Once my job's done, I'm gone." She started to shove past but he pushed her back against the wall.

"So I made a mistake," he said, his lips a breath from her own. "One little mistake. I was a kid. I was stupid. Are you telling me that in all your life you've never done something stupid?"

"At least my mistakes don't hurt people." She put a hand up and shoved at his shoulder, irritated. "Unless you want me to kick your ass, you'll get off of me right now."

He laughed, "Becca, you stopped scaring me a long time ago. I swear to God you're so damned stubborn." He let go of her and she sagged against the wall.

"What the hell do you want from me?" she shouted, not caring if anyone heard. "I'm over you, Johnny. You hurt me, but guess what, I don't want you anymore. You're not as irresistible as you think you are."

His smirk irritated her. "Really?" he crossed his arms over his chest. "Then why do you care what I think so much?"

She stopped, "I don't. I just don't want you to have some ridiculous notion about me wanting you."

He laughed, "Hon, you don't have to convince me. Sounds to me you're trying to convince yourself."

"Blow me."

"We played that game already, remember?"

She kicked at him but he dodged out of her way and, still laughing, caught her chin with his finger and forced her to look up at him when he tipped it up. "Sooner or later, we're going to have this out. But," he said, noting the footsteps coming down the hall, "it seems like it'll have to be later."

"We're not going to have anything ou-" she was saying when Reed knocked on the door.

"Everything okay in there?" he asked loudly.

"Yes," Becca called back. "Everything's fine, thanks."

Johnny smirked as he heard Reed head back down the hall.

Becca jerked her face away from him and after shoving him away she threw open the door, leaving Johnny in the room again, staring after her.

She knew that he was probably sorry, and he was right, it had been a long time ago. But, she couldn't help it, she just felt irrational when it came to him.

She made her way to the lab where Reed was getting settled.

"Everything okay?" he asked as she rushed in, her face red.

"Sure," she said dismissively.

"Okay," Reed said slowly, taking in her flustered appearance.

"Yeah," Becca said, "I came to tell you what I found."

"Oh really?" he asked.

"Yeah," she continued, "I think we have a problem."

* * *

Johnny lurked outside the lab, mirroring his behavior of the past few days. He'd gotten to her, or at least, he though he had. But he couldn't be sure. He knew that she was still mad at him. Hell, he couldn't blame her. But they were going to have this out, once and for all, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

Smiling at Reed, she continued. "I decoded part of the scroll," she said. She pulled up what she'd done so far on her laptop.

Reed smirked and studied the passage. "What does it mean?" he asked.

"That," she continued, "I don't know."


	8. Cryin'

A/N: Okay, I know it's been a few weeks since I've posted, but this chapter's been giving me some trouble. I know it's a little slow in some places, but I promise it will pick up after this. I've been really tired from my internship and work, so hopefully you guys enjoy it. Thanks to **PirateGyrl** for always listening to me rant. Enjoy!

**Chapter 8: Cryin'**

_I was cryin' when I met you _

_Now I'm tryin' to forget you _

_Your love is sweet misery _

_I was cryin' just to get you _

_Now I'm dyin' 'cause I let you _

_Do what you do to me _

_-Aerosmith_

* * *

_**A year and six months after their first meeting…**_

_The lawn was perfectly manicured and shaded by several large oak trees. It was here that Becca and Johnny were stretched out, eating lunch between classes, curiously sans any girlfriends or boyfriends as Johnny's girlfriend Tracy had scheduled a lunch with friends. _

"_Johnny," Becca said, taking a mouthful of her chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream as she spoke, "you have got to stop dating airheads." _

"_What?" Johnny asked, slightly shocked. His mouth hung open as he stared at her. "What are you talking about?" _

"_Oh, come on," she chewed as she considered how to break this to him, "Tiffany? Donna? Juliet? None of them could even string two sentences together." _

_Johnny smirked, "well, now that you mention it, we weren't very interested in talking. " _

"_Oh God," Becca said. She put her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear about that. Too much information." _

"_Lighten up. Just because I'm not searching for my soul mate at the moment doesn't mean all these girls are idiots. Look at Jessica," he gestured wildly, "she was a law student." _

"_She takes classes from some bogus online university. I asked her what she knew about that case involving malicious prosecution of the teacher down in Georgia. She said she didn't know anything about manicures." _

"_Please," he rolled his eyes, "she did not."_

_Becca had to withhold a snort, "I swear to God." _

_Johnny closed his eyes, and finally broke into a grin, snorting as he started to laugh. They were both rolling on the grass, tears running down their faces by the time they managed to control themselves, ignoring the curious glances they were drawing from their fellow classmates as they laughed._

_Johnny sat up, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Come on," he said, still laughing, "your boyfriends aren't any better." _

"_Right. Except they're just the opposite. It's almost impossible to get them to think about anything but classes. They're all intellectual. No emotion." _

"_I never could figure out why you dated all those nerds. You're nothing like them. Look at Tony." _

"_Oh God, no." She directed her eyes skyward and closed them tightly as he continued to speak._

"_You like having fun: skating, skiing, swimming, racing, dancing. And yet, you dated Tony, the most boring guy on earth, whose idea of a good time was, well, debating theoretical quantum physics. He was a genius, but if you tried to do anything fun, he practically freaked out." _

"_It's called a mistake," Becca said, "and you've made plenty." _

"_Amen to that," Johnny said with a grin, toasting her with his can of Coke. "And I thank God for every one of those 'mistakes'." _

"_Gross," Becca said, rolling her eyes. _

"_You know what?" Johnny said, changing the subject as Becca was still screwing her face up in disgust. "With classes being almost over for the week, we should celebrate." _

"_Celebrate? What, more than getting drunk and dancing like idiots down at McNabb's?" _

"_Yeah. It's been the first week of school of our senior year. That should rate a celebration.." _

"_What did you have in mind?" she frowned. Johnny's ideas sometimes ended badly. _

"_We should do something tonight," he said, grinning. _

"_Like what?" she asked. Normally he had something going every night of the week. "What about your girlfriend, Trixy?" _

"_Tracy," he corrected. "No, she's got a night with her girl friends. I heard about this party tonight. It's being thrown down in the village." _

"_Oh God," she put a hand to her forehead. "You know those parties are just a bunch of sorority girls getting drunk." _

"_Are they really?" he looked ashamed, "I didn't know." _

"_You go on," she said, "I'd rather not go to that party. Maybe I'll call Katarina and see if she wants to go dancing." _

"_No, no," he said, waving a hand to stop her, "we can do the dance club. Sounds good. Dinner before?" _

"_Wow," she was surprised, "I guess. Give me a call when you get out of your last class. Speaking of which," she checked her watch and frowned, "I gotta get going or I'm going to be late. Professor Barton will skin me alive if I miss a lecture." _

"_Okay," he stood and grabbed her hand, yanking her up. "I should be out by five. I'll call your dorm." _

"_Sure," she smiled, leaning down to collect her trash from lunch. "Later."_

_They headed off in opposite directions, a smile on both of their faces. _

* * *

_The club was loud, the music audible from the field where they parked Johnny's Jeep Wrangler. "Nice," Johnny said, smirking at a group of girls milling around, obviously overdressed in short skirts and extremely high heels._

_She rolled her eyes and climbed out of the jeep, slapping her hands on the thighs of her jeans. She'd worn boot-cut jeans, a white tank top and a simple ponytail. Compared to the girls Johnny was checking out, she looked like a boy. _

"_You ready?" she asked, leading him to the front door where a large man wearing a tight t-shirt highlighting his bulging muscles hulked. Johnny followed and paid for two adult admissions after they both showed their IDs. She made her way into the din, grinning at the flashing lights, the great song already coursing through her blood, making her want to dance. _

"_Drinks?" she asked, turning back to Johnny. He nodded and she led the way to the bar. The bar was crowded, but she managed to elbow her way to the front, motioning to the bartender for two beers with a smile. When they arrived, she passed one to Johnny who took a swig and gestured to the dance floor. She grinned and followed him to the middle of the hard wood floor, still carrying her drink. Aerosmith's Crazy was playing and she lost herself in the music. Johnny put a hand on her hip as they danced. She smiled up at him as they swayed to the music. It was nice to have a friend she was so comfortable with. _

_Three hours and three beers later, they were both sweating. As she jogged into the bathroom, she noted that her face was flushed. She grinned. It had been a great night. She loved dancing. The alcohol left a nice buzz in her system, but she made a note to grab a water to dilute it as she was a bit tipsy, her balance off as she made her way out of the bathroom to where Johnny was waiting, holding another drink. He'd been at the bar ordering them when she'd left him. "Bottoms up," he said, toasting her as he took another swig. _

_She laughed and followed suit._

* * *

_Two hours later and she and Johnny were dragging themselves out of the club, laughing as they held each other up, both barely able to stand. Katarina frowned at the two as she leaned against Johnny's jeep, wearing a spaghetti strap top and pajama pants. _

"_You two," she said, "are idiots." _

"_What?" Johnny looked wounded. _

"_Did you not realize you'd need a DD?" _

"_Well," Johnny smiled, "we didn't mean to drink so much." _

"_You so owe me. I'll have to bring you back over here to get your car in the morning. Johnny, you can crash at Becca's place because I'm not driving all the way over to the Greek village." _

"_Sure," he grinned and slung an arm around Becca. "You don't mind a little sleepover, do you Bec?" _

_Becca laughed and shoved him away, "just as long as you keep your hands to yourself, hotshot." _

_Becca gave Katarina a sloppy hug as she climbed out of the car. "Thanks," she said. "Sorry for all the trouble. You're a lifesaver." _

_Katarina sighed, "I'd rather do this than have to hear that you ended up in a ditch somewhere. Next time, call a cab." _

_Becca waved as she slammed the door and stumbled to her dorm room door where Johnny waited. Being the RA had its advantages. She had a whole room all to herself, and was able to have sleepovers because, honestly, no one would notice. Of course, this was the first time Johnny had ever 'slept over'. She dug in her pocket for her keys and shoved the door open. The cold refrigerated air hit them full in the face, a drastic difference to the humid night air. _

"_Nice," Johnny whispered surveying her bunk bed that was a convertible full sized futon couch on the bottom bunk and a normal bunk on the top as well as a few pinup posters of perfectly proportioned half-naked men._

"_Glad you approve." She moved to her closet, picking out some old clothes from past boyfriends and tossed them to him. "Here," she said, "you can sleep in these. Of course, they might be a little big, but at least you won't smell like a bar room floor in the morning." _

_He caught them and held them up. "Whose were these?" he asked. _

"_Jason's, I think." She leaned over and didn't see Johnny's snarl of disgust as she pawed through her pajamas for a comfortable selection. She chose a comfy pair of pink pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt she'd bought on a road trip to Colorado Springs. _

"_I'm going to the bathroom to change," she said, "you can change out here." _

_He nodded and stripped off his shirt before she'd even made a move to the bathroom. She held up a hand, "Could you at least wait until I get to the bathroom?" _

_He smirked, "you'd better hurry." He swung the shirt on his finger and rolled it up, about to pop her with it. She dodged into the bathroom and slammed the door, laughing. She could hear Johnny laughing outside as she did so. _

_When she emerged, she didn't see him. Thinking he may have wandered outside for some reason, she called, "Johnny?" When she felt arms around her waist, she squealed. _

_He laughed as he swung her around. "Gotcha."_

_She smacked him on the chest while he still held her to him. "Johnny, you idiot. You scared me half to death." _

_He laughed as she glowered at him. "You scare way too easily." She rolled her eyes and shoved at him. "Let me go, I wanna get some sleep." _

_He squinted as if considering. "Well, I suppose. If you can give me a good reason." _

_She sighed, "Johnny," she said, "you're so drunk, I'd only have to poke you and you'd go down. Do you really think now's the time to compare fighting techniques?" _

_He laughed, "who said anything about fighting?" _

"_Well," she looked over his shoulder, noting the time was 2:30, "if you don't let me go, it's going to turn into a fight." _

"_That right there," he said softly, "is why you fascinate me."_

"_Huh?"_

"_You're not the typical female. Any other girl and she'd be all over me by now. I'm so easily taken advantage of when I'm like this." _

"_Well hun, I'm not one of your blonde haired, long-legged bimbos." _

"_Back to criticizing my girlfriends? That's harsh." _

"_Well you do know how to pick them. Why don't you try one with a brain? You might actually enjoy it." _

"_Is that an invitation?" he asked, smiling, an eyebrow rose. "You're certainly not my usual type." _

"_Of course not," she pushed against him again. "Now, unless you want to be in some serious pain, you'd better let go."_

"_Sure," he said, releasing her from around the waist, but grabbing hold of her wrist, spinning her back to him, her arm twisted behind her back._

"_Johnny," she breathed, "you do realize we're just friends." _

"_Umm hmm," he said, as he sniffed her neck. "I love your perfume. It's so...enticing." _

"_It's just soap," she said. _

"_Interesting," he said, "because it smells better than anything Tracy's worn lately." _

"_Johnny boy," she said, "you're drunk. Now, why don't ya let go and we'll forget all about this? Hopefully the alcohol will take care of that." _

_He tipped a finger under her chin so that she met his eyes with her own. "Can you honestly say that you don't care about me?" _

_She looked up into his clear blue eyes, his cocky grin lighting his face. "Of course I care about you. You're my best friend." _

_He put a hand to his heart. "You kill me, Becca." _

"_Why? Because I won't fall into bed with you?" _

"_Now there's an idea," he laughed, bending down to nuzzle her neck. _

"_Johnny, stop." He leaned back, his face falling and his lower lip sticking out. "Really?" he asked. "Just tell me you really want me to stop and I will." _

_She studied his face again, the blue eyes, the smirk accented by the day's growth of stubble which made her just want to bite his jaw. He had been her friend for a long time and she'd never had the urge to kiss him. What was wrong with her? Although her conscience was screaming at her, she ignored it. It had been so long since she'd found someone who could surprise her, make her laugh. She cocked her head to one side and a smile blossomed over her face. "What the hell." She threw her arms around his neck, her lips covering his. She felt him take a fistful of her hair as he pushed her back towards her bed, shedding her fluffy robe on the floor and letting her tug up his shirt as she went. She threw it over her shoulder as he pulled at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up until he exposed her bra. She raised her arms so he could pull the shirt over her head and then let it drop beside them. He grinned as he pushed her down on the bed, climbing on top of her. She smiled up at him, not thinking about anything but him, not tomorrow, not next week, just him. _

* * *

**Present day…**

"It's the strangest thing," Becca said. "It's a rotating cipher, but changes after every seventh letter. Not that difficult to decode."

"Then why has it taken so long for someone to decipher this?" Reed asked.

"I don't know." She tipped her head to one side, her chestnut hair glinting in the dim light, "Maybe he did decode the scroll."

"Then why let everyone think that he was still working on this up until his death?"

"I don't know. It makes no sense."

Johnny stood in the kitchen, watching the lights of the city. He could feel his temper bubbling just below the surface, his blood warm, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. Becca and Reed had cloistered themselves in his lab. He wasn't going to go barging in there, not because he couldn't understand what they were talking about, but because he didn't want her to think that she was the one in control. They were going to have this out, but only when he was damn well good and ready. When Sue walked in, she didn't see him narrow his eyes but they glinted against the windowpane.

"Did I hear yelling earlier?" she asked, smoothing blond hair behind her ear.

"I don't know, did you?"

"Johnny, what's the matter with you?" He kept his back to her and rolled his eyes.

"Nothing, why?"

"Well, there just seems to be…friction between you and Dr. Yale. I was just wondering if there was something going on."

"Nothing I can't handle," he said. Before she could ask anything else, he'd brushed past her and was heading down the hall to his room. He felt like he'd spent more time in there than he had in a month.

* * *

"This makes no sense," Reed said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know," Becca continued, "but it's the only logical solution."

"If that's the case," Reed said, "then this scroll needs to be taken somewhere safer. Whoever stole the other scroll is going to come looking for this one when they realize their mistake."

"Do you think Von Doom will come after it?" Becca asked.

"I'm not sure," Reed said, "but I'm more concerned by the implications of this scroll and the information it contains."

"As am I," she said. "Since we've discovered the cipher, I think it would be best if we transferred this artifact to a safer location to prevent this information falling into the wrong hands."

"What about Victor?" Reed asked.

"While he very well may come looking for this scroll, he won't find it. I'll make sure it's hidden in one of our most secure locations," Becca continued, her heart lightening at the thought of being able to escape the Baxter Building. "If we receive any more information, I'm sure you'll be hearing from my superior."

She stood and collected the scroll. "I'm going to contact the NSA and arrange for an escort and for safe shipping of this scroll. As soon as that's taken care of, I'll be heading back to Washington."

Reed watched her, his eyes narrowing, "I don't quite understand," he said. "The NSA brought us in to consult on this, but now you've decided that you don't need our help?"

"No offense Dr. Richards," Becca said, her voice warm, she turned and smiled at him, "this has nothing to do with not needing your aid in this case, but rather more importantly about the safety of the information in this scroll. Although you have adequate security in this building and I don't doubt your abilities for a moment, I'm sure my superiors would agree that this needs to be taken somewhere that even Victor Von Doom wouldn't even be able to steal it, if that is indeed who's after this scroll."

"I'm still not sure if I agree that this is the best course of action," he countered.

"Still, Dr. Richards, this is not your decision; you were brought in strictly as a civilian consultant."

Reed nodded, as if conceding defeat. "I'm only more concerned that the NSA is less able to deal with Von Doom than my friends and I."

"I appreciate your concern Dr. Richards, but this is my decision." She turned and carried her work papers with her, and then called over her shoulder, "I'll let you know when the security will be arriving to transport the scroll. I'll be leaving with them."

Reed turned back to his desk and took a sip of the coffee that had long since gone cold. He knew that something was going to go wrong, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

* * *

Johnny rubbed a hand over his jaw where a day's worth of stubble had grown. When he saw Becca walking purposefully past the kitchen and down the hallway, he took the opportunity to follow her. This time, she didn't attempt to avoid him, but instead, smiled sweetly. "Johnny, what can I do for you?" 

He was slightly taken aback by her altered demeanor and paused for a moment. "What's going on?" he asked, following her into her bedroom where she placed some papers on the makeshift desk and turned to the dresser where she'd stored some of her clothes.

"I'm leaving," she said, smiling, "and I'm taking the scroll with me."

"What? Why?" he asked, stunned. "What did you find out?"

"Why don't you go discuss that with Reed," she said, he voice still saccharine. "I've got some important phone calls to make."

She didn't see his expression turn to stone and fire behind his eyes. "Don't treat me like an idiot," he said. "I don't give a damn about what you think of me right now. This is important. What the hell is going on with Von Doom?"

"I don't have time to give you a watered down version," she said calmly, gathering some socks and a pair of pink pajama pants paired with a white tank top and tossing them on the bed. She was trying to provoke him, probably because she was so happy that she would be leaving. She wouldn't have to deal with all of those issues she'd been reliving the past few days. So she wasn't surprised when she felt him grab her around the waist and spin her around, slamming her into the wall probably harder than he'd meant to.

She smiled in spite of her temper flaring within her. "I don't appreciate being manhandled, Johnny," she said as he breathed hard in her face.

His face was hardened and she could see the muscle in his jaw flexing. "Really?" he asked, his tone not betraying his frustration, "that's not what I remember."

She shoved at him, but he caught both her wrists and pinned them to the wall. "Why are you leaving?" he asked, his face close to hers.

"We figured out what the scroll is," she said, finally conceding the information.

"And?" he prodded, still holding her wrists tightly. He could feel her pulse quickening. She couldn't stop it. She hadn't been in such close proximity to him in a while. It surprised her that he still smelled the same. Same cologne, the same smell of spice and soap. The memories that it evoked make her stomach clench painfully.

"This scroll is the key to the other," she said. "Without this one, whoever stole the other won't have any way to figure out what the second document contains."

"Which means," Johnny continued her thought, "that whoever stole the first is going to come looking for the second."

"Precisely," she said. "And that's why I've got to get it somewhere safe. So," she sighed, "if you wouldn't mind letting go of me, I've got to make some calls and arrange for transportation and security. We've got to get this scroll hidden as best we can before Von Doom or whoever comes looking for it."

Johnny smirked, his face transformed. He leaned in, pressing his body to hers so that she was pressed completely between his body and the wall. He sniffed her neck and smiled, "you still smell the same, you know?" He sniffed again and she had to suppress a shiver. "Vanilla, honey and mango. It still makes my mouth water." She closed her eyes, letting his soft voice wash over her, forgetting about the past and letting herself enjoy his proximity, but after a brief moment, she was released and by the time she opened her eyes, he had walked out of her bedroom and was halfway to his room. She licked her lips, and could still smell him in the room. But, shaking her head as if to clear it from cobwebs, she looked down at the scroll. Damn coincidences, she thought. If it hadn't been for this assignment, she never would've seen him again. Now, she was going to deal with work and get out of this place as quickly as she could. Before the past came back to bite her in the ass. She picked up her cell phone and dialed the number for security. After relaying the situation and the needed protection, she was told that transportation would be arriving within the next two hours.

Becca felt her eyes drooping as she studied her computer screen. Her head was throbbing. She'd been dealing with her superiors for the past forty-five minutes and she reached for the night table where a bottle of migraine medication sat. She'd stopped thinking about Johnny, at least momentarily, when someone knocked at her door. Great, she thought. She stood and pulled it open, and was greeted by Sue.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"Fine," Becca yawned. "Security should be here in about an hour. Sorry to leave so quickly, but it's best to get this as safe as possible."

Sue nodded, "I understand. Reed explained the situation to me." She stepped farther into the room and smiled, "I was just wondering if there was anything I could do."

Becca shook her head, "no, everything's all taken care of."

"Well," she said, "I hope we were helpful. Please let us know if there's anything else we can do in this case."

She sighed and nodded, "I will, thanks."

When Sue turned, leaving without another word, she let out a little squeal when she looked up and saw Johnny leaning in the doorway, that irksome smile spreading on his face.

"What now?" she asked, drained of all energy. She felt exhausted, irritated that she was confronted with feelings every time she looked in his face, and even more frustrated that she had to leave him behind again.

"Just came to see when you were leaving," he continued standing where he was, blocking the doorway.

"Happy to be rid of me?" she poked.

"I can tell you're happy to be getting away from me," he continued to smile.

"Happy to be done with my job," she corrected. "I told you, this has nothing to do with you."

"Sure," he drew the word out, his voice full of disbelief.

"Always cocky," she drawled. "At least I'm leaving before we really are at each other's throats."

"Still can't believe you're so stubborn after all these years," he murmured.

"Damn it, Johnny, it doesn't matter. You were a jerk. It was years ago. Why does it matter so much to you now? You afraid that one woman in the world might actually find you resistible? Can't you just let it lie?"

He hadn't come to start a fight but he could feel his temper bubbling once again.

"Stubborn to the end," he smirked. "You know what, Becca, why don't you just keep operating under the delusions you've held so close for the past few years? Apparently the truth doesn't really matter to you. So damn self-centered you expect everyone to be as flawless and perfect as you are."

She could hear the note of anger in his voice but couldn't bring herself to explore it further. She groaned, "Johnny, did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to open up that old wound? It hurt badly enough the first time. Why should I put myself through more pain over something that doesn't even matter to me anymore?"

"Because, damn it," his voice raised, "you were wrong! And you ran off before I could even explain what happened. You were in D.C. and none of your friends would tell me where you were so I could even explain." He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly through his nose.

"Now that you're through having your tantrum," she said calmly, "do you mind if I finish packing? My escort should be here in a few minutes and I've got grown-up things to handle."

He blocked her path as she tried to move past him. He moved towards her until she sat back onto the bed. "Have a seat," he said. "For once you're going to listen to someone else's opinion." She stood up and dodged him as he started to push her down again.

"Unless you want a bloody nose," she growled, "you'll get the hell out of my way." He paused just a moment and then, as if an invisible force flung him, he was thrown across the room, hitting the wall and then slumped over, unconscious. Her scream was involuntary, but didn't last very long as the same force struck her that had hit Johnny and she felt pain shoot through her body, and then blackness overcame her.


	9. Dance With the Devil

**Chapter 9: Dance With the Devil**

AN: Sorry it's taken so long to get my next chapter up. I'm neck deep in my final internship and haven't had much time for writing. Hopefully this short chapter will tide you over. Enjoy!  
Thanks to **PirateGyrl** as always to listening to me rant and all of my faithful reviewers. Thanks a bunch!

**Two days before…**

_In a darkened room, a young man with blond hair smiled as he leaned over the ancient worktable. Crimson lit the room, drifting through the smoky air as he concentrated, hard at work._

_"Sir," he whispered, his voice rasping, "I'm afraid there's a small problem."_

_A hooded figure appeared in the corner of the room, "what's the problem?" he asked._

_"Wi- without the other scroll, sir, I'm afraid I won't be able to decipher this code. It's as if they depend on each other. One helps to translate the other."_

_The man frowned from the corner, his cape dragging on the cold stone floor. "That's terrible news," he growled._

_"We need the other scroll," the younger man said. "Otherwise, this one is useless."_

_"Luckily," the man said, his voice brightening as his hand extended, sparks shooting from it, "I know exactly where it is."_

* * *

By the time Sue and Reed made it to Becca's room after hearing the sounds of crashing furniture, all they found was partially destroyed walls and a broken window. Becca, Johnny and the scroll were gone. 

Reed closed his eyes and shook his head as Sue rushed into the room, surveying the damage.

"How did Doom get in here?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sue said, "but now he's got both Becca, Johnny and the scroll. Do you have any idea what the scroll decodes?"

Reed shook his head, "not really. Dr. Yale was pretty vague. I don't think she, herself knew what it held."

* * *

"Oh for God's sake," Becca moaned, shoving at the weight on top of her. She had a killer headache as if she'd had about four margaritas the night before and then been hit in the head with a bat. She heard a groan and her eyes popped opened. Johnny's sleeping face was about an inch from her own and his own body pinned hers down. What the hell? She shoved again and heard him almost whine at the motion trying to rouse him from sleep. 

"What the hell?" she said, pushing more frantically until she decided that Johnny wasn't going to wake up without some help and punched him on the chest hard.

His eyes opened, the blue in them clouded from sleep.

"Not yet sweetheart," he said, "few more minutes." She felt his arm wrap around her and pull her to him more closely.

"Johnny, damn it, wake up," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. His eyes opened again.

"What?" he asked, his voice tinged with a whine almost like that of a small child who didn't want to get up for school yet.

"Where are we?" she whispered again slowly. For the moment his proximity was barely tolerable. She was more concerned with her lack of memory after he had followed her into her bedroom to find out why she was leaving for Washington.

He closed his eyes again, apparently afraid to open them, as if the light burned them. "I don't know, he said softly.

"You're my guest at the moment," a deep baritone voice said. Both of them struggled to sit up, Becca accidentally kneeing Johnny in the groin area as she frantically wiggled away from him. He gasped in pain as the same voice chuckled.

"I'll be damned," Johnny said when his voice finally returned and focused on the man who had spoken.

"You may indeed," Victor said with a smile. He wore a well-cut Armani suit with a power tie, his arms spread wide as he continued, "welcome to my family home in Latveria."

"How?" Johnny started to stutter. Victor looked the exact same as he had before their trip into space.

Victor's smile widened. "Scare's you, doesn't it?"

Becca had been silent this entire time, a long time even for her, Johnny had noted. This was the moment she chose to pipe up. "What the hell are we doing here?" she questioned.

"I need your assistance in a project of mine."

She let out a bitter laugh, "assistance?"

"Well," Victor continued, "I'm in need of your particular services. You've had an exemplary career, Dr. Yale," he said with a nod. "You're the foremost in your field. I always like working with the best. Plus," he said, "I'm afraid the young man who was working for me on this particular project suffered an untimely end. I have both of the scrolls," he cut to the chase, "but I need to know how to decode them. I have every confidence that you've already deciphered the second scroll, but only you have the skill needed to apply the cipher and decode the first."

Becca had to suppress an eye roll. "And if I refuse?" she asked, her head cocked to one side.

"That would be unfortunate," he said, his smile dimming. "I would hope we could keep this professional. Well, you may be wondering why I did not just leave Johnny at the Baxter Building? Allow me to explain. If you refuse to help me, I'm going to kill him. It's no secret that I hate Johnny. I have no problem with killing him. Hopefully I won't have to sink to something as barbaric as murder, but I care more about these scrolls and what they lead to. And it won't be slow death," he said with a leer at Becca and she felt Johnny's hand tighten on her arm, "it'll be as drawn out as I can make it. And believe me, I'll enjoy every minute of it."

She didn't see Johnny's face but she knew it was the same look he got when someone took the remote control away from him. He was pissed off. His hand was still on her arm and she felt him squeeze it again when she opened her mouth and she had to prevent herself from throwing him off of her.

"I'll do it," she said, smirking at Von Doom's reaction. He looked somewhat taken aback at her response.

"Good," Victor recovering quickly and smiling the same oily smile of politicians and liars. "I'll have the scrolls brought here. In the meantime, I'll give you two some time alone. Don't go anywhere," he called over his shoulder.

As they watched his retreating back and the enormous doors slammed shut, locking solidly behind him, Johnny looked at Becca, "what the hell's the matter with you?"

"Me? I'm just trying to save your ass, you moron. Would you have rather me refused to help him? I don't doubt that he would kill you. He looked like he was ready to do it here and now."

"I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself," he smiled, snapping so that a small flame erupted from his finger. He threw the flame so that it landed on the wall, and where the flames normally would've spread towards the ceiling, they simply flickered and died.

"That's interesting," Becca said, watching Johnny try again.

"What the hell?" Johnny whispered to himself.

"And don't be, you know, grateful," she continued, "since I was so tempted to refuse, especially since you were trying to squeeze the crap out of my arm."

"I was trying to tell you to say 'no'," he said, his voice low. "Do you ever listen?"

"Why should I when I have a better idea?" She watched as Johnny shot fire at the couch they'd woken up on. "Do you know Einstein's view on insanity?" she asked as she watched him becoming more irritated as he shot flames until the room began to heat up around them.

"Hmmm?" he asked, not even stopping to look at her.

"Trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result."

It took him a moment to process her comment and then stopped, turning to look at her. "Okay, so obviously that's not going to work. What do you propose?"

"I have an idea," she said, "but I'll have to cooperate with Von Doom for a while."

* * *

Meanwhile, in his office, Victor listened to Becca's voice as they discussed their course of action. Let them think they could have the upper hand. He only needed them as long as they were useful. Johnny was his leverage. If he could use him to force Dr. Yale to do what he needed, it would all be over soon. 


	10. Bring Me Down

**AN: Well everyone, after nearly 3 months I've been able to post again. I've actually got several chapters done, so they'll be up shortly. Hope you enjoy them. Thanks for reading! **

* * *

**Chapter 10: Bring Me Down**

_Sweet like a kiss_

_Sharp like a razor blade_

_I find you when I' m close to the bottom_

_You can't appreciate the time it takes_

_To kick a love I always knew was kind of wrong _

_And as I'm putting out the flame_

_Somebody brings up you name_

-Bring Me Down - Miranda Lambert

* * *

"You don't know this guy," Johnny said. "He's smart."

"Well so am I," she said. "Whatever this scroll is going to lead him to, I'm not going to let him get it. He said so himself, I'm the best in my field. I can damn well outsmart this cocky bastard."

"So what's your plan?"

"You'll see," she said, an eyebrow arched.

"Damn it, Becca, why do you have to be so difficult?" He narrowed his eyes at her and she refused to meet his gaze although they were so close to each other in their attempt to keep as quiet as possible.

She raised her eyes to a corner of the room where she saw a small camera, almost completely nondescript except for the tiny green light blinking. They were being watched.

"Hot damn," he breathed, his breath warm on her cheek as his stubble grazed her skin.

"Looks like we don't really have the luxury of privacy."

"So, what, I'm just going to have to trust you? That you know what you're doing?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you know about getting out of situations like this?"

"Maybe a little more than you think. Anyways, 'torch', you obviously can't get us out of this mess as the place has been fireproofed. It just looks like you'll have to trust me. Anyway, out of the two of us, I'm the more level-headed one here."

She didn't know why she was trying to pick a fight here, she wasn't really, it was just her way of relieving stress from the situation. But she wasn't surprised when she felt his hand on her arm, not a tight grip, but just strong enough so that she wanted desperately to shrug it off.

"What?" she whispered, "I am the more levelheaded one. You have a very low boiling point, Johnny, always have. It takes nothing to set you off. And you don't think things through. You're a little, what was the word Reed used? Hotheaded."

"And you're superiority complex is starting to get on my nerves," he said through gritted teeth. "But that's a problem for another day. First, we've got to get out of here."

"Just trust me," she said. "And don't do anything stupid, as hard as that may be for you." She cleared her throat and started to back away from him as the door began to open, however Johnny's hand on her arm stopped her and she stumbled.

Victor entered, the same oily smile on his face. "Are you ready to begin?" he asked, steepling his fingers.

Becca nodded and watched as an elderly gentleman dressed in tan breeches and a large white shirt wheeled a cart into the room which contained several computers, all the necessary tools to handle antique documents, as well as a meal for two.

The old man aimed a blank smile at the two, who still stood close together because Johnny still had her arm in his grip. He had a large gap where his two front teeth were missing. For some reason, this gave Becca the image of a snaggle-toothed seven year old, except this mouth belonged to a seventy-year old man.

Victor didn't even acknowledge the servant, but spread his hand wide, over the cart. "I've brought you some food, and the necessary equipment. I'm going to be monitoring your progress carefully. If you're not making speedy enough advancement, there will be dire consequences for your dear Johnny here." He leered at Becca again and she felt goosebumps on her skin and his hand on her arm tightened slightly. Turning again, as if dismissing servants, he said, "I'll be back in an hour to check on you. Enjoy your lunch."

"Something about that…" Johnny's voice trailed off.

"What?" Becca asked, moving towards the cart for the food and to take her first look at the missing scroll.

"I've known Doom for a few years now," he said, "and there's something odd about the way he's acting."

"Isn't he, by all definitions, 'odd'?" she asked. "I've read about the guy. He's all mysterious, ran those employees at that company of his ragged, treating them practically like slaves, and no one knows too much about his background, except that he came from here, Latveria, and that he's descended from the rulers of the country."

"Something about him though," Johnny said, "maybe he's just eager…"

"What are you babbling about?" Becca asked, unrolling the second scroll and comparing it to the first.

Johnny shook his head, "probably nothing."

"Good," Becca sat down and began to eat, "I've got to get started."

"I thought you weren't going to help him," he said, his voice low.

"Do you want to get electrocuted?" she asked offhandedly, already focusing on the work before her.

She didn't see him roll his eyes, a gesture, which would've reminded her of herself if she'd seen it.

Twenty minutes later, she was well engrossed in her work and Johnny paced in a corner, a habit he'd taken up ever since Becca had fallen back into his life again. It wasn't his style to sit by and do nothing. But, something about the way she smiled at him made him think that she had a good plan up her sleeve.

Since she had both scrolls together and had already figured out how to read both, it was slow but steady work. When she came to a phrase she recognized, her hand froze, then began to shake. "Oh my God," she whispered. Her words brought Johnny to her side.

"What?" he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder more out of habit than affection.

"He's a fool," Becca said in a hushed voice. "A damned fool."

"What is it?" Johnny repeated.

"I thought it was just a legend," she said, "just a fairy tale. This can't be authentic." She shoved hair away from her face and blew out a loud breath.

"Now you're babbling," Johnny said, a smirk teasing the edge of his mouth.

"The Black Volume," she whispered. She looked up at him, her clear eyes meeting his narrowed ones. "This is really bad."

She's making faster progress than I thought; Victor smirked to himself as he watched her reaction and Johnny as he hovered over her shoulder protectively. Soon, he'd know the exact location to the one thing that could give him everything he'd ever wanted.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed it. I'll be posting more in the next few days. Thanks for reading! 


	11. The Legend of Whitesbane

** AN: **Well, here's another chapter. I've been writing, re-writing, and adding as much as I could. I can't edit it anymore because I would be working on it forever. So please, enjoy and, as always, I appreciate any feedback. Thanks for reading!**  
**

Also, thanks a bunch to Dawnie-7 and PirateGyrl for your continuous reviews. You guys are awesome!

**Chapter 11: The Legend of Whitesbane and the Black Volume**

It's an old fairy tale she'd heard since she was a little girl. The legend of Whitesbane and the Black Volume, also known as _la légende du fléau blanc et du volume noir_. She didn't really remember where she'd first heard it, but her mother had told it to her many times, and then, as she got older, she remembered dreaming of the castle, and the other cast of characters, wishing to be a princess, much like girls her age had wanted to be Ariel, Belle, or Cinderella.

* * *

This is how the story went: once upon a time, there lived an evil prince who ruled over all of his people with a heavy hand and hate in his heart. He showed mercy to no one, no matter how minor his or her infraction. He was obsessed only with power; possessing it, keeping it, and using it. Nothing gave him as much excitement as exerting his power over others. He was a sadistic abomination of a human being.

One day, a beautiful young lady came to visit the palace. She was young, no more than twenty years old, and had a long mane of auburn hair paired with cat-like green eyes. She had suffered a terrible crime against her family, she cried to the prince, but he simply stared at her, stoic. She'd returned home from market and found her entire family murdered, her baby brother, mother and father.

The prince held her as she cried, but his face never lost its stony countenance. She was alone, helpless, and had come to him for help, for justice, for vengeance. Smoothing her silky hair with his hand, he felt an opportunity forming in his mind and he began to smile kindly.

"I will help you find the man that murdered your family," he told her, "if you will promise to be my wife."

Now, this young woman was not a fool. She'd heard talk of how brutal the prince was and shied away from becoming his wife. But, with her family now gone, she only had one response, because if she refused him, she felt sure that there would be even more dire consequences.

She agreed to be his wife, unaware that the prince himself had murdered her family with his own hands, knowing that she would come to him for justice and because she was the most beautiful girl in the whole village she was the only acceptable maiden to take as his wife.

Once she'd been married for one year, she learned a dark secret whispered by the chambermaids and underlings of the castle. The prince had a source of power. An old witch, named Lilith, who lived in the bowels of the castle, casting spells and making evil potions and poisons for the prince.

The young woman, now a princess, ventured to the bowels of the castle, searching for an explanation, because she'd noticed strange happenings while living in the castle for the past year and magic would have been the only logical explanation for these odd occurrences.

She was shocked to hear her husband's voice, who was supposed to be out riding his beloved horse, Caligula, carrying down a corridor not far from where she lurked.

"I want it finished, damn you!" he screamed like a thwarted child. A voice she'd come to fear. The tone he'd taken was his most dangerous because at his most childish he was his most brutal.

"My liege," the old woman's voice cackled, "it will be done shortly. The next circle of the moon and it will be ready."

"I've given you plenty of time," his voice rose again, "and I'll give you the extra time, you old hag. But if it's not done by then, you'll be attending your own execution."

She peeked around the corner and saw an older woman, not quite as old as she would've thought, but certainly old enough to be in her fifties. She bowed as the prince turned and stalked away, passing right by the princess' hiding place. Once his footsteps faded, she heard the old woman muttering to herself. Suddenly emboldened, the princess made her presence known and stepped out into the flickering firelight.

"My lady," the old witch's voice crackled like dry leaves as she smiled and leapt to a low bow.

The princess smiled kindly at the old woman. "I'm in need of your help," she said softly.

"Anything," the witch whispered. "Your highness is welcome to anything she desires."

"I need to know what my husband, the prince, has been doing. What you are making for him?"

The witch looked horrified for a moment and then spit on the ground. "It's too horrible, my lady. Please don't make me speak of it."

"Tell me," the princess continued, insistent.

"I've created for him a book, which, when read aloud, can bring about the darkest power this world has ever seen."

The princess studied the old woman's face and narrowed her eyes. "And what power would that be?" she asked.

"The end of the world," the old woman said. "The owner of the book can call forth the plagues, have anything they desire, and wreak havoc on our world. There will be nothing out of his reach."

"Why did you do this for him?" she asked, shocked at the force of this book.

"Because, my lady, he'll kill me. He's already murdered my only family in the world. I had a man once. Then, when the prince learned of what I could do, I came home from picking herbs for my potions and I learned that my man had been sent away to war, under orders from the prince. Days later, he'd died. That's when he summoned me."

The princess felt her heart tug for this woman, who, she could tell, had been beautiful once. "I am so sorry for your loss," she said, taking the hand of the witch, "for the troubles you've suffered. I too lost my family. That's how I met the prince. I had no one else."

The witch nodded sadly, "yes, I know."

"Then there is something I need you to do for me," the princess said conspiratorially.

* * *

"What did she ask the witch to do?" Johnny asked, acutely engrossed in the story. He'd never heard this fairy tale and it didn't sound like any he'd heard before. More often than not, they were about beautiful princesses in castles, or held in high towers by their evil stepmothers.

"She asked the witch to create a book that would undo the magic of the evil book, called the Book of Whitesbane," Becca said. She'd not heard the story since she was a child and some parts of it were a bit fuzzy.

"But this book, this, 'Black Volume,'" Johnny continued, "it can't possibly exist. It's just a story."

"Apparently it might," Becca shuddered.

"And Victor's after it?" Johnny whispered.

"It appears that's the case," Becca ventured, "but hopefully we'll be out of here before I can finish decoding the whole thing. If I could I'd toss both scrolls in the fire right now."

"That would probably be ill-advised," Victor's voice rang out from behind them. He'd entered through another door at the far end of the room and neither of them had noticed him. He stood, smiling at the couple, one finger rubbing the ring on the opposite hand as he leaned against the wall.

"You're a fool," Becca said, jumping to her feet and started to make her way across the room, but Johnny restrained her with a hand on her shoulder and she heard Victor's laughter ring out.

"I thought you weren't going to do anything stupid," Johnny's voice whispered in her ear, light as butterfly wings.

She immediately relaxed and noted the mocking gleam in Victor's eyes. "Why would you call me a fool?" he asked, his head cocked to one side.

"You know damn well why," she said, but stopped when she saw sparks jump on his hand.

"Really now?" he asked, all solicitude. "I don't recall asking you for your input. I do recall our deal that I set forth. It seems to me that you're making good progress. What have you learned?" Sparks jumped again as Johnny started to shield her from Victor, but stopped when Becca moved away from him to the cart which held her recent work.

"You know this relates to the Black Volume. That's about as far as I've gotten. It's slow work."

Victor nodded, "seems to me, you might work faster if you didn't take time out for telling fairy tales."

"I'm just trying to understand why you're chasing after fairy tales."

"Are they?"

"You know they are," she countered. "What could you possibly want with this?"

"Again, I didn't ask for your input." His face was stony and then lightened when he leered at Becca. "But since you asked so nicely," he spread his hands wide and his leer grew. "Have a seat." When Becca sank into a chair and Johnny stood over her, protectively, Victor frowned, "I said have a seat."

"No thanks." When sparks jumped on his hand, Johnny didn't flinch. "I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself," he continued and moved toward the couch, but did not sit. Instead, he leaned on the couch. "I've been searching for these scrolls my entire life. These documents are artifacts from my own country, a national treasure, if you will."

He ignored Johnny's snort as he muttered, "Figures they'd be relatives of yours."

He continued, "the story Dr. Yale here was telling you was partially true and partially artistic license, as is usually the way when folk tales are related. However, there is enough truth for us to believe that these two books do exist, or did at one point in time. The scrolls were written by an elderly Italian scientist who encrypted them, believing that he was protecting the books. At the time of his death he was murdered and the scrolls were taken."

"So how did Bryant Verrett get the scrolls?" Becca asked.

"He bought them at auction several years ago."

"Then why--?" she stopped short when Victor stood again.

"That's all I'm prepared to share with you right now," he said, smiling. "I expect you to have made more progress by this evening. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. If it's not to my expectations," he smiled wider and sparks flew on his outstretched hand, "it won't be pretty."

Johnny started to leap at Victor as he turned his back on the two, but was thrown across the room, slammed in the wall, but slid down to the floor.

He lay on the floor gasping as Becca rushed to his side. Victor leered at her as she hovered over him.

"Bastard," Johnny gasped, but Becca shushed him and then turned on Victor herself.

"You son of a bitch," she said, her voice low, still crouched next to Johnny.

"Self defense," Victor countered. "Only a coward attacks a man with his back turned."

Johnny was still reeling from the shock but gasped and started to rise. Becca shoved him back down and he grimaced. "Let him be," she said softly and then turned to Victor. "I'll have more work done for you this evening."

Victor smiled and then bowed out of the room. "You had more sense than I gave you credit for, Dr. Yale. I do apologize. I rarely misjudge people." He turned his grin on Johnny, "feel better." His laughter still rang out as the door slammed behind him, locking loudly.

"Why in the hell didn't you let me kick his ass?" Johnny asked, spitting up blood onto the ornate carpet from knocking his mouth when he'd been thrown up against the wall.

"Because, hothead, all that would've done was get you killed or seriously hurt and I could actually use your help. I can't get us out of here all by myself no matter how smart I am."

Johnny cocked his head to one side, "worried about me?" he asked, a smirk forming on his face. "You really care? How sweet. It would be almost touching if you weren't calling me an idiot every other second."

"I only call you an idiot when you deserve it." She started to smile over her shoulder as she stood and then turned to pull him to his feet, listening to the teakettle hiss he released as he stood, his mechanism for coping with the pain. She saw his eyes flash fire as he finally made it to his feet and she helped him limp across the room to collapse on the couch he'd been trying to set fire to hours ago.

"You okay?"

"Peachy," he gasped in breath. "Damn, that hurt."

"Here," she stood and walked across the room to where the cart which had a bottle of wine as well as several bottles of water sat. She picked up a bottle of water and took it to him.

"Drink this, it'll help."

"I'd rather have that wine," he said, which was met with an arched eyebrow and an outstretched hand, still offering the water. With a sigh he twisted the cap and took a long gulp of the water. "Thanks," he said.

"Any time," she ruffled his short hair and settled on the arm of the couch.

"The bastard's so damn cocky," he said. "And I wasn't the only one who tried to kick his ass. You tried to take a chunk out of him before I did."

"True," she said, "but that's because he has no clue what these books are capable of. He's a fool. An arrogant fool."

Johnny smirked at her, the anger evident on her face. "How do you know so much about them?" he asked.

"I told you the story already," she said. "You'd never heard it before?"

"Never," he stopped, "doesn't even sound familiar. But I'm willing to bet Victor's done his research on these books if he's willing to kill and kidnap someone to translate scrolls leading to their location. Otherwise he'd just be on a wild goose chase."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You know," he said, "I really wondered about that story. It's nothing I've ever heard before."

"Well ace, think about it. You're twenty six years old, it's been a long time since you've even been in the mood to hear fairy tales. I take it you were more interested in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Transformers."

"And you were more interested in The Little Mermaid and weird fairy tales that no one has ever heard of aside from you and Victor Von Doom."

"Bite me," she said sweetly, her face upturned in a simpering smile.

"Not now hon," he said. "I'm not really in the mood."

"Then let's stay on target," she said. She stood and began to pace.

"Maybe you should work some more on translating it," he offered. "We might find out more if you work on it."

"You don't think Reed and Sue..." she began, seating herself back where the scrolls lay, spread out for inspection.

"I don't know," Johnny said. "They may come, they know this has to do with Victor, but I don't know if he hurt them when he took us." His forehead wrinkled and he grimaced as he shifted on the couch. "If he hurt Sue, I'll kill him."

"Didn't you do that once already?" she asked, no sarcasm intended.

"Kill him again, then."

"You know, you should really work on that temper of yours," she said in an offhanded tone, still studying the scroll.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Your temper," she repeated. "You've got to keep it when you're around Victor. Or else you're going to get us both killed."

She didn't see his arched eyebrow, or the smile he desperately tried to hide. That was the Becca he knew and loved.

"I'll do my best," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, which, for a moment, she was too engrossed in the work to shrug off.

Finally, after a few seconds of contact, she knitted her brow, her square reading glasses perched on her nose and she turned her head to studied his hand. "Do you mind?"

"Sorry," he jammed his hand in his pocket and shifted, leaning back on the couch and taking another swig of water. "Just let me know if I can help."

"Don't worry," she grinned at him, her smile blinding, "I've got your part all worked out. It's not getting away from Von Doom that worries me. It's the legend I'm worried about. Anyway," she turned her sparkling green eyes on him, "weren't you the one who said you knew how to get out of this type of situation?"

"Of course," he arched a brow, "probably more than a government stooge."

"Stooge, huh?

"I say that as a compliment." His eyes were laughing.

"Right," her eyes returned to the work, flicking back and forth, her eyelashes fluttering when she grew tired. "Of course, this stooge happens to know a thing or two. So, try not to underestimate me." She paused, "Doom already has."

"How so?"

"He thinks I'm some helpless female who's going to do the work for him and then passively let him kill us."

"Yep, that's about right." He nodded and flicked a hand over his hair.

"What he doesn't know is that there's something he didn't count on."

"What's that?"

"I just found out where the book of Whitesbane is."


	12. Trick or Treat

AN: Hey guys, sorry some of these chapters may be a little slow, but I've got some more coming up which should be better. Hope you like it.

**Chapter 12: Trick or Treat**

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Becca said as she stooped to pick up one of her suitcases from the sidewalk where she'd placed it when they'd exited the elevator. As it was only five-thirty in the morning, she wore a pair of comfortable jeans and an over-sized sweatshirt to ward off the early morning chill.

"What?" Johnny looked innocent as he picked up another of her suitcases and they continued their walk through the airport.

"Halloween Horror Nights, are you kidding me? I get scared watching Scream, and that's the most predictable horror movie ever."

"I love Halloween," he grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "Don't you?"

"Of course I do but-" she started to continue, but he cut her off as he caught her lips with his own, silencing her. When he pulled away, his arm still around her waist, she was grinning and hissed, "I hate it when you do that. It makes me feel like agreeing to anything."

He kissed the tip of her nose as they continued to make their way through the terminal. "Don't worry. It'll be fun. I'll protect you from all the big bad monsters and creepy crawly things that go bump in the night."

She arched an eyebrow in response, "that's exactly what I need. My big, strong hero." As he laughed, she followed him and he pulled out his plane ticket, handing it to the woman behind the counter, who smiled blandly at them both. After showing both their ID and passport IDs as proof that they were who they said they were, their luggage was dumped onto the conveyor belt and disappeared. They cleared the metal detectors and stole some free seats at their gate to wait for the boarding call, which would probably be a while as all flights were delayed due to rain around the airport.

"Wanna grab a coffee?" Johnny asked, winking at her.

"Sure," she smiled and stood, following him to the coffee shop directly across from their gate. Her stomach jittered as she walked. They sat down at the counter facing their gate and sipped in silence for a few moments. She smiled at a little girl who walked past with her mother in tow, her pigtails swinging as she flounced by.

"This is the first boarding call for gate 32C flight to Orlando. Those seated in first class, those with young children, and with premium boarding passes may now board," they heard as they'd taken a few moments with their coffee. Johnny glanced over his shoulder.

"We're up," he said, indicating the line now assembling at the gate.

The plane landed in Orlando with little incident, and Becca found that she was exhausted from the flight as they dragged their bags towards the front doors of the airport. They'd already booked a hotel at the park and were flying home the day after tomorrow. All they had to do now was find their shuttle to the hotel.

* * *

Although they were going to Halloween Horror Nights, Johnny had decided he wanted to see Citywalk, which consisted mainly of clubs and tourist shops. The whole thoroughfare was decked out for Halloween and she let him win her a teddy bear wearing a pumpkin costume by demonstrating his prowess at pitching overly large softballs at weighted bottles. She carried the bear through the crowd, her hand in his. It was still warm this time of year in Orlando and she found that she was comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans as opposed to the consistently dropping temperature of New York in which she would've been wearing a sweater and probably a scarf.

It was extremely pleasant walking in the warm night air alongside him, smelling the scents of the various restaurants and vendors that populated the area, and watching children dragging exhausted parents by the arm, eager to see the next ride or spectacle. As night fell and the crowds grew more rowdy because no one under the age of twenty-one was allowed was allowed access, she felt the mild chill that fell. The excitement of impending debauchery was rising within her. Nothing excited her more than cutting lose and dancing. She could hear the live band tuning up. The entire area was about to become one giant dance club. He poked her in the stomach when she tried to tug away to wander into another tourist shop.

"Don't you think we have enough souvenirs for one night?" he asked, indicating the teddy bear she still carried.

"You can never have too many souvenirs," she grinned, They walked into a shop that was full of crystals, herbal remedies and dream catchers, ornate figurines of dragons and fairies glowed from the dusty corners of the shop, watching their youthful inhabitants.

"Oh this is beautiful," Becca breathed to herself as she carefully examined a silver ring with a green stone the color of an emerald.

"That's an exact replica of the ring worn by the countess Lucia von Bardas of Latveria. We carry some… obscure items of interest," the saleswoman said with a sheepish smile.

"Do you know who that is?" Johnny asked. He had never heard of her.

"She was the prime minister of Latveria, married to Count Otto Von Doom in the 1600s. One of the only women to hold a position of power in that time period," Becca said softly. Something about the way the stone glinted in the light made her heart beat just a little faster. It was as if she could see something moving in it, luminous in the dim light of the store.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked Johnny, turning the ring over in her hand in the light.

He smiled at her, her focus entirely on the ring.

"You're right," he grinned and then, taking the ring from the palm of her hand, slipped it on her finger. "You can never have too many souvenirs. We'll take it," he said to the saleswoman.

Becca threw her arms around him, planting a kiss on his lips. "Thank you," she laughed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, deepening the kiss.

"We only live once," he said. "Why not enjoy it while we're here? Plus," he said, "it looks good on you. Matches your eyes perfectly. Did anyone ever tell you that you look like a cat when you're excited?" She smirked at this comment, but said nothing. She didn't mention the coincidence that she'd been studying Lucia von Bardas in her history class only the week before. Something coincidental about that gave her goosebumps but she dismissed them. It was certainly the weekend for coincidences. Eerie things always tended to happen on Halloween. Especially to her. She brightened her smile and ran her hand over his chin where stubble was starting to grow. She loved the rough texture over her fingertips and planted a kiss on his jaw line. When she pulled away, his eyes were cloudy.

"I should buy you gifts more often," he said. "I'm beginning to enjoy the rewards." When he pulled away to walk to the counter where the saleswoman waited, she smiled behind him and admired the ring. It was a beautiful ring, reproduction or not. She didn't even notice the inscription on the inside of the band of the ornate ring as she'd only glimpsed a carving, which she assumed was a dead language. Nothing unusual about that, she thought. People often inscribed sayings or protections on their jewelry in those days. The ring was crafted was an uninformed time, full of fear for evil spirits, ghosts and ghouls. She was a little more even minded and didn't take stock in silly superstitions.

"You ready?" he asked, slipping an arm around her shoulder as she still examined the ring.

"Mm hmm," she said, and slid her arm around his waist. He planted a kiss on her forehead. She dragged her eyes away and grinned up at him. "I love it," she said, "thank you."

"You're welcome," his arm pulled her closer and drifted carefully up her side, tickling. She squirmed and laughed when he pulled her in for a kiss. When she pulled away, it was to look up at the deep blue of the night sky and the first stars that were twinkling against it, as if someone had tossed perfect diamonds on a piece of velvet cloth.

"Don't see a night like this very much when we're at home," Johnny murmured in her ear. She nodded and continued to look up, oblivious to his gaze while she studied the sky, as if she were a child again, dreaming what was in the sky and wishing she could pluck one of the stars as a toy.


	13. Attack

A/N:Okay, so yes, I know I haven't updated in ages. I have completely revamped this chapter and am re-uploading because I finally got over my writer's block. If you have already read this chapter, you might want to re-read because the ending is different than what I'd originally planned on and hopefully you'll find that it's better. I've spent hours editing. :-) Enjoy!

As always, I own nothing other than my OC, Becca, and my copies of Fantastic Four 1 & 2. Sad, but true.

Chapter 13: Attack_  
I won't suffer, be broken  
Get tired, or wasted  
Surrender to nothing  
I'll give up what I  
Started  
And stop this  
From end to beginning  
A new day is coming  
And I am finally free  
-30 Seconds to Mars- Attack_

Becca jerked awake. "Wha-" she said, her voice lower than normal and when her eyes flickered open she saw his face in front of hers. For a moment, she was still that girl. That girl that didn't know anything about betrayal or heartache. Then, everything shifted and she was back in reality. Her pulse quickened as she stared into his eyes and then she felt herself flush.

He held a finger to her lips to shush her. "You were sleeping," he said.

She sat up to stretch so that he backed away.

"Sorry," he smiled. "You fell asleep working. How close are we getting?"

"Closer," she said. "I want to go over some things before we go through with this."

"Fine," he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a deep breath. _What now? _he wondered.

"Well," she sighed, "first of all, you've gotta promise you're going to go by my plan."

" I've already said that, what, fifty times?" he rolled his eyes as she studied him, his pent up energy, and felt the tug of a smile.

"Yes," she paused, "but I need to make sure. If we slip up, we're going to be in big trouble."

"And if you don't stop nagging, you are going to be in big trouble," he said, mimicking her.

"Johnny, I'm serious," she said, shoving hair out of her face, which had been rounder several years ago, had interesting angles now that she was a few years older.

"I know," he gave her a half-smile. "You just make it so easy. I'll play by your rules. You're the doc, right?"

She nodded and looked down at her hands, on which she'd once worn the ring he'd bought her in Orlando on that warm night at Citywalk. Now, although she'd never admit it, she wore it on a thin silver chain under her shirt. Not as a remnant of him, at least she wouldn't admit that to herself, but as more of a good luck charm. She always felt lucky when she wore it.

"You know," he said, standing and moving so that he towered over her.

"What?"

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to trust me. "

She stared into his eyes, which met her own and held. She took a deep breath, not believing the words that were about to spew from her own lips. "I do."

He blinked, and then, as if she'd made a wonderful joke, his face split into a grin. "You do?"

She paused a beat, and then nodded slowly, "well, I don't really have a choice right now, do I?"

"Why is that?"

"Well, why would you want to sabotage yourself? Makes no sense."

"You never know. Maybe Victor and I are in cahoots together. I might just be here to make sure you keep working. You know how I just want to get my cut of this fairy tale treasure."

She snorted, "please. Von Doom's slicker and smarter than you. That's always burned you up. And people who do that to you, you have to try to get one up on. You always have. You haven't changed much." She eyed him up and down as his grin had been replaced by a sneer. He was still standing over her, and at her last comment, his face had dropped.

"Slicker and smarter, huh?"

She smirked, "yup. Drives you crazy doesn't it? You're usually the one who's getting all the attention. You're the one the girls fawn all over. I'll bet it's hard to outshine a billionaire genius like that."

Johnny arched an eyebrow and then, pulled her to her feet. "Who says I want to?"

She let loud a very unceremonious snort in his face, "oh come on, Johnny, you know you do. The guy walks in and even though I'd rather cut out my own heart than look at him twice, that part of me always does a double take. He's dangerous. Something in the female psyche has always been attracted to that, though God knows it would be in our best interest if we avoided that kind of man like the plague. It always ends badly, but it's one hell of a ride."

His grip tightened so that she narrowed her eyes at him, "I'm dangerous."

"No, you're hot-tempered, cranky, and a general pain in the ass."

She felt his hands, very warm, on her shoulders and started to shirk away from his grip. "Johnny, let go."

His eyes burned into hers. "Becca, you're going to admit it sooner or later. You still like that part of me." His hands were even hotter now and she could almost smell something burning. He released her when she started to shove away.

"What part?" she asked, rubbing a hand over her shoulders, "The part of you that's a pain in the ass, or the part of you that's a hot shot? The one that always has to be the center of attention?"

He rolled his eyes. "Damn it, Becca," he pulled her to him again, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Why?"

"Why?" she pulled away completely, and started to move back to her seat. The conversation had quickly turned serious. Why? Because she couldn't take that again. The first time had almost killed her. She couldn't survive it again. "Because I don't want you any more."

He shrugged. "Fine, then. One time offer."

"You cocky son of a bitch," she yelled, louder than was necessary. "Why the hell would I come back to you?"

He motioned for her to be quiet, but she continued on. "I trusted you completely. You can't get back that kind of trust. You lost it the second I lost you."

"How sweet," a voice said behind her, and she cringed when she recognized the baritone of Victor. "You two were lovers?"

She rolled her eyes, disgusted with the way his voice had caressed the word 'lovers'."

"No," she said, turning. "We weren't."

"Why lie to me now?" he smiled, almost kindly, if he was capable of kindness. "The entire country heard you screaming at poor Johnny here. What did he do, forget to call you back? Dump you for another girl? Tell you he loved you?"

She cringed inwardly at the memories that came to mind. "You know," she said, "I think it's none of your business."

"Why Dr. Yale," he put a hand over his heart, "you wound me."

"I wish." She put a hand to her neck where that familiar knot of tension was brewing, her fingers grazing the chain of the necklace on which hung the ring. She couldn't bring herself to meet Johnny's gaze.

"Isn't that cute?" Victor smiled and slid an arm around her shoulders as she stared at anything but the two men, both of whom studied her. "She's still carrying a torch for you Johnny."

"Get your hands off of me," she said, through gritted teeth.

"Or what?" he chuckled as his hand tightened on her shoulder.

She cringed as he ground his hand into her bone and the gasp she let loose must've been audible because the next thing she knew she'd been shoved to the floor and she could hear the sound of punches being thrown.

"Oh, for God's sake," she said, shoving herself to her feet. "You two are like a couple of baboons."

She saw Johnny land a nicely aimed punch to Victor's jaw and then knelt to pull him away, enjoying the display in spite of herself. "Come on," she said, "let him go." She was too late to stop the final punch, which knocked Victor's head back against the stone floor with a sickening crack and with satisfaction she saw his eyes roll back in his head.

"Nice one," she said, pulling him to his feet. He swiped a hand over his mouth where his lip had split from a jab Victor had gotten in, the ring he wore had done most of the damage.

"Thanks," he slung an arm over her shoulder and she cringed when he skimmed the area where Victor had hurt her. "I swear to God, I've gotten hurt more since you showed up. Why is that?"

"Maybe it's because you're such a gentleman," she said, raising an eyebrow, "or maybe it's because I drive you so crazy."

"That is true," he rubbed a hand over his jaw, "you are usually the one doing the punching."

She heard a moan from the floor and looked down. Victor was waking up. Great. She watched him as he sat up. She sensed that Johnny wanted to spring again, but positioned herself in front of him to prevent him.

"I've got to hand it to you, Johnny, you got the drop on me." He sneered at Becca as he stood up. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

Johnny snorted, "like hell," he muttered behind Becca who got Victor's attention again. "Look," she said. "I've got your information. But I want to make a deal."

"Really?" his eyes narrowed. "I'm always in the mood for a deal. What did you have in mind?"

"I'll lead you to where this book is hidden. But-" she took a deep breath, "we go alone. You have to let Johnny go."

"That's so sweet," he smiled at her. "Trying to spare the ex? Sorry, that's not part of the deal. As soon as I let him go he's going to go straight to his sister and the mad scientist."

"Fine then," she crossed her arms over her chest, "find the damn book yourself."

"You'd let me kill him?" he asked, his eyes sparkled as if embers danced within them.

"What do I care? Like you said, he's my ex. Hell hath no fury, and all that."

"Why do I get the feeling you're playing me?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Maybe because you're paranoid," she offered. "Either way, I'm done dealing with him. I'll take you to the stupid book. I hope you kill yourself with it. But he's not coming."

"What do I need you for?" Victor asked, peeking over her shoulder and watched Johnny's stony face. "I could kill you both and get the book for myself. I have your notes."

"No, you couldn't. I know this legend. Even if you could decipher the directions, you wouldn't understand what they meant. So killing me would not be in your best interest. But Johnny, he doesn't know anything about this. Hell, the only reason he was with me the day you kidnapped us was because we were fighting. You miscalculated on that, didn't you?"

"Possibly. But, still, I don't think you'd let me murder him just for stubbornness."

"You'd be surprised," she countered ominously.

Johnny pulled her back and spun her around. "Just let me come with you," he said, his face close to hers. "You'd be safer," he whispered.

She yanked out of his grip viciously and turned back to Doom. "Do we have a deal?" she asked.

He watched her, and she could practically see his thoughts swirling. "No."

She smirked, "okay then." She moved to the desk and picked up the scrolls and her own notes, holding them over the fire.

He held up a hand, smiling. "You know the value of those documents."

"Oh really?" she asked. "I just want to get the hell out of here. I want to go home. And I refuse to deal with him," she jerked her chin at Johnny.

"You want to get away from him?" he asked, and before she could toss the papers in the fire, lightning had flown from his hand and knocked her across the room. She slid bonelessly to the floor, the papers fluttering down around her. "Then you'll take me to that book. And be thankful I don't kill you."

He turned on Johnny. "Help her up, and then try to get it through her brilliant brain that stupidity will get you both killed. We're leaving in an hour." He stormed out of the room.

Johnny knelt next to where Becca was slumped and slapped her cheeks lightly, which were flushed. "Wake up," he said, "damn it Becca."

Her eyes flickered open and she smiled up at him. "Moron," she whispered in his ear. "God, that hurt."  
"You're completely nuts."

"Not nuts, just lovably quirky." She said; her voice deadpan as she let him help her up. "God, my muscles are on fire."

"Why did you have to provoke him?" he asked.

"Because, I had to make the point that it's going to be difficult if we're fighting the whole time, which, given our track record, is more than likely."

"Couldn't you have been a little more subtle?"

Becca knelt next to the fire, where the scrolls were still scattered. Her fingers twitched towards the scrolls. She jerked up when Victor stalked back into the room, a callous smile on his face.

"For God's sakes, what is it now," she lamented.

"I'm terribly sorry to disturb your privacy," he said cuttingly, "but it occurred to me that I need to know where we're going."

She held her breath for a moment, wishing her body didn't feel as if she was on fire. It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that Johnny still grasped her elbow, holding her up. "Oh, I have to tell you that now, do I? How about I wait until we're up in the air, I'd really rather hold off until I know you just won't kill me."

He started to advance on her, but she laughed infuriatingly as Johnny started to push past her, obviously hoping for a reason to take another punch at Victor. However, Victor seemed to compose himself once more after a split second, and with the familiar oily smile, he paused.

"You are the most hard-headed smart person I've ever met," Victor said, slinking towards her instead, his hand gliding over the smooth antique desk at his side.

"And you're the cockiest bastard I've ever met," she said, "with the exception of Johnny," whom she saw squirm out of the corner of her eye and suppressed a smile. Always so easy to get a rise out of him.

"Still hot for your old flame?" he asked, his voice smooth.

She snorted unceremoniously, "if you had any kind of perception at all, you'd see that even trying to use him as leverage against me is amateurish at best. Why do I care? I can't stand him. I'd bury him myself and dance on his grave if I had the chance."

There was a long pause as he stared into her clear, crystalline green eyes. "And just what," he asked, gesturing to Johnny, "did Johnny do to deserve such hatred, when the female population at large is enamored with our hero?"

"None of your business," she said. "Suffice it to say that I'm not like the "female population,' she narrowed her cat-like eyes at him.

"That's a definite understatement." His arm snaked out and pulled her to his chest before she could utter a word.

"There's something so familiar about you," he whispered in her ear so only she could hear. "Something I can't quite put my finger on." Her gaze flickered down and for an instant she saw something she would never have expected. A glint of emerald green in the firelight. She didn't betray her surprise, but instead, simply glared back up into his dark brown eyes. "Get out of my face," she growled.

Certainly, this was not the reaction he had been expecting, and so jumped when Johnny let loose a short burst of irate laughter.

"Well apparently, I'm not the only one she doesn't like around here," he said, chuckling, his eyes amused when Victor turned.

She saw his eyes flare dangerously but she didn't really care. He wouldn't kill her until he got what he wanted. But why make this easy for him? He wouldn't kill her, not yet. She had nothing to lose at this point, or at least, that's all she could let herself knew that there was something he was holding back; something she could see hiding behind his dark eyes, but couldn't quite tell what it was. She felt warmth emanating from the ring she wore near her heart, almost like a heartbeat.

"Well," Victor said, he smiled at her, "we need a bearing at least. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Just give me a country for the pilot to aim for. Where are we off to?"

Johnny crossed his arms over his chest, as if mimicking him. "Yeah, Dr. Yale," he said with a smirk, "where are we off to?"

She took a deep breath, then, exhaled loudly as if praying for absolution, "tell him to head for England."

Victor nodded. "I'll send someone to pack the papers so we can take them with us. And," he narrowed his eyes at Becca first, then turned them on Johnny, "you better not be playing me, or else I'm going to kill you both, very, very slowly." He stalked to the door and closed it sharply.

She seemed to slump against Johnny slightly as he moved closer and slipped an arm around her shoulder. "You are one crazy chick," he murmured. She chuckled quietly and then moved to the desk. Kneeling near the fire, she collected the papers where they had scattered when she'd dropped them. She focused on the desk and under another sheaf of papers produced a map of Ireland. Johnny moved behind her to peer over her shoulder. She pointed to a particular site on the map, symbolized by a star. "Well," she said, shrugging, "at least we know where to start." When Johnny's hand slid onto her hip it was more of a comforting gesture than seductive overture and she turned back to smile at him over her shoulder. "This is going to be one hell of a trip," he whispered, meeting her eyes with a smile.

"At least he bought it," she murmured, her eyes again focusing on the map, where the Irish castle noted their first destination.

A/N: So what do you think? I'm hoping this is better than what I posted originally. Tell me what you think, or just keep reading, either will make me happy. :-) Happy Memorial Day!


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